


King and Pet

by CrashDevil (cjdevlin19)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Boy King of Hell Sam Winchester, Dark fic, Dom/sub, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Kidnapping, Multi, Plus Size!Reader, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-23
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:21:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 13
Words: 44,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24340501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cjdevlin19/pseuds/CrashDevil
Summary: Sequel to Doc and Sir. Y/n is very happy to be Dr. Winchester, happy to be Sam’s wife, but when Jack and Kaia send everyone into new universes, Doc is suddenly face-to-face with a very different ‘Sir’. THIS IS A DARK FIC!~~~~~The door stopped rattling and for just a minute you thought you might be safe. The salt must have been enough to hold them off. You were just about to let out a sigh of relief when the door exploded inward, making you cower and shield yourself from the wooden shrapnel. Your peripheral vision caught a boot stepping on the line of salt, disrupting it with the flick of a foot. "Always nice to have an excuse to leave the palace," a very familiar voice said. You cringed as the owner of that voice stepped closer. "Even if it's just to put down some fat hunter we missed in the Eradication."You wanted to deny being a hunter, and lament him callously calling you fat, and mourn the loss of life that must have been 'the Eradication', but as you looked up at the face of your husband...none of that came out. All that came out was, "Oh, god, what happened to you?"
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester/You, Dean Winchester/You, Sam Winchester/You
Comments: 42
Kudos: 44





	1. Through Space and Time

**Summary** : Sam and Y/n decide a couple of left-hand rings are way overdue.

 **Story Warnings: 18+! HERE BE SEX!! DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!,** Dom/sub relationship, marriage, wedding night, spanking, orgasm denial, choking, bondage, safe word use, unprotected sex

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait until we get your mom back, Sam?” you asked, running your hand through his hair. 

“Doc, why wait?” He grabbed your wrist and pulled your hand down to press a kiss to your palm. “Things change so quickly...either of us could be dead before we bring Mom back. We might _never_ get her home. If I die again...I want it to be with a ring on my finger.”

“Oh, you wanna leave behind a widow instead of a girlfriend?” you joked.

“Doc...you haven’t said ‘yes’ yet and you’re makin’ me a little nervous,” he said, smirking at you.

“Of course I’ll marry you, Sam. I’ve been yours for _years_.”

Sam smiled brightly and pulled you into his lap, kissing you passionately and burying his hands in your hair. “Damn right, you’re mine. Gonna be Doc Winchester soon.”

You smiled and shook your head. “Only to us. I don’t think a dead fugitive can saunter down to the courthouse and have a real, ‘on the books’ marriage. So, I’ll still be Dr. Y/l/n in the eyes of the law.”

“Aw, who gives a fuck about the law?” he asked, smiling. “Okay, so no courthouse. Valid point. We’ll do a ceremony here. Dean’s my best man, Jody’s your matron of honor, Jack can be the ring-bearer...who do you want to do the ceremony?”

You chuckled. “Can’t think of a better person to bless our union than an angel of the lord. Cas is back.”

“That sounds perfect,” he whispered, pressing his lips to your forehead. “We’ll drive up to Hastings this afternoon, get an engagement ring and a bridal set.”

“I’m so excited!” you exclaimed, wrapping your arms around Sam’s neck and kissing him. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Y/n.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You should do a handfasting. Since yer goin’ nontraditional already,” Donna said as she sat down at the Map Table and took a drink of her beer. “It’s about bindin’ you together, bindin’ your souls through time and space. It’s sweet.”

“Binding our souls through time and space?” Sam questioned, an amused smile on his face.

“I like that! Donna’s right, it _is_ sweet,” you said, smiling.

“You sure you wanna be bound to that soul?” Dean asked, chuckling. “It’s been through some _shit_.”

You shook your head at your soon-to-be brother-in-law and reached across the table to take Sam’s hand. “I would _love_ to be bound to Sam’s soul.”

Sam licked his lips and blushed a little. “So...how do you do a handfasting?” he asked.

“You got ribbon or a piece of pretty silk rope?” Donna asked.

Sam smirked and looked in your eyes. It was your turn to blush as you thought of the black silk rope in the box in your bedroom with the rest of your toys and various BDSM accoutrements. “Yeah, we got a piece of silk rope,” Sam responded.

“Well, then you just wrap your right hands together with the rope and say your vows, add in a part about binding your souls together and it’ll be perfect, don’cha know.”

You laughed and took a drink of your beer. “Any way we do this, it’ll be perfect.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You spent the night in one of the extra rooms in the bunker, which turned into your bridal suite as Donna and Jody helped you get your hair and makeup perfect. You felt like you shouldn’t be nervous, but you were. You were getting married. You were getting married to Sam Winchester...the man who saved the world.

Your dress was a simple silver gown you bought for a hospital function back in Colorado. Your hair was twisted and pulled back, your makeup elegant and purposely chosen to make your eyes pop. Donna and Jody were both in their best ‘little black dress’. Dean promised he would get Cas out of his trenchcoat for the ceremony and you managed to keep from making the gay joke that immediately came to mind.

They set up an archway in the library and Dean played the Wedding March from his cell phone. Jack walked out with the rings on a small plate. Donna walked forward, followed by Jody, both carrying small bouquets of wildflowers from the woods outside the bunker. You carried a trio of red roses as you stepped into view. You smiled as you walked toward the Winchesters and your friends.

Sam’s eyes were sparkling as he looked at you. It was a look filled with love...and you were sure you had a matching look in your eyes. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, taking your hand as soon as Jody took the small bouquet from you.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Castiel cleared his throat, calling attention to himself. “We’ll begin with the handfasting, then the vows and rings.” You both nodded at the angel, who put his hand out for Dean to hand him the long piece of silk rope. “Present your right hands, clasping your hands over each other’s wrists.” You and Sam took a deep breath and followed Castiel’s directions. Sam’s hand easily encircled your wrist, but yours didn’t fit around his. 

“These are the hands that will love you, that will hold and comfort you through your years. These are the hands that will help you build your life together. With this rope-” Castiel slipped the rope around your hand on Sam’s wrist, knotting it loosely before moving on to do the same on your side. “-you’re bound together. Your souls are bound through time and through the space of God’s infinite universes. Though a simple rope couldn’t possibly-”

“Cas!” Dean barked, shaking his head.

“Right, sorry. Please, your vows,” Castiel said, stepping back. “Sam?”

Sam smiled down at you, hazel eyes shining. “Doc. I don’t really think I can put into words how much you mean to me. The last couple years have been some of the best of my life and that’s so much your fault. So much your influence. If I didn’t have you, I think I’d fall apart. I’m so happy to have you in my life...bound to my soul, no matter how broken my soul is.”

“Is not,” you whispered.

He chuckled and shook his head. “You deserve so much more than I can give you, but I know you don’t care about any of that. You love me just as much as I love you...which is crazy because I love you so much. I’m proud to see you as Dr. Y/n Winchester.”

“Y/n?” Cas said, giving a small hand gesture.

“Sam, you’re everything I’ve always dreamed of. From the moment I saw you in class, I dreamed of you. I wanted you for years...even after you left. And while I know it’s a good thing I held back from talking to you in college, I wish I’d had you the whole time. I wish I could have been there for you through all the things that almost broke you...and I’m so happy that I get to help you through these things now. I love you, Sam, and I’m so happy to bind my soul to yours.” Sam’s grip tightened on your wrist and you smiled brighter. 

“The rings?” Cas asked, looking to Jack who stepped forward and handed Sam’s ring to you and your ring to Sam. “Since you can’t always have a rope tying you together, you’re going to wear these rings to symbolize your connection.” You slipped Sam’s ring on his left ring finger and he slipped yours on your left ring finger. “Now, by the power vested in me by Dean, who said I had to do this, I now pronounce you Husband and Wife. I believe it’s customary to kiss now.”

Sam pulled you forward by your bound hand and wrapped his left hand around your neck pulling you into a passionate kiss. Everyone around you cheered as you lost yourself in the taste of Sam...your husband.

“Now?” Jack asked...and then rice was raining down on you and Sam’s heads.

You laughed as you pulled away from the kiss and Cas moved to untie the rope. Sam put his hand out for Cas to give him the rope and smiled. You knew exactly what he was going to be doing with that rope when you got back to your room.

“Everyone say ‘hello’ to Dr. and Mr. Winchester!” Dean called out and everyone cheered again.

Sam chuckled and wrapped his arms around you, spinning you around and sweeping you off of your feet. “Thank you all for coming. There’s beer and wine and food. Stay away from our bedroom.” He grabbed your hand and rushed down the stairs toward your bedroom, you giggling as he pulled you behind him. He pushed you into the door and kissed you fiercely. “Inside. Undress. Now,” he demanded, the Dom voice completely undeniable.

“Yes, sir,” you said on a breath, pushing open the door and pulling the dress off as soon as you heard the door click closed behind your husband. 

Husband. What a word. 

You dropped your bra and underwear to the ground and fell to your knees, hands folded in your lap and head hung. Sam stepped in front of you, twisting the rope in his hands. “As many times as I’ve tied you up...who knew I could bind our souls so easily?” He chuckled and grabbed your hair, yanking you forward onto your hands and knees. It took no time at all for Sam to have you hogtied, bound with your marital rope so that every time you tried to relax your legs, the rope tightened around your neck. He ran his thumb across your jawline and twisted your head to look at him. “I really wanna gag you because you look so damn hot with that pretty black ball in your mouth, but I also want everyone to hear you screaming for me.”

His hand slapped against your ass and you cried out as loud as you wanted. Sir wanted everyone to hear you, you could definitely make that happen. The second swat made your legs jerk and the rope pulled tight against your throat. "Oh, careful, doc. You gotta be nice and still or you’re gonna choke yourself...and that’s _my_ job, baby.”

You tried to grab your ankles but you couldn’t get a good grip with the way your arms were bound to your sides. So every time he spanked you, the noose got just a bit tighter and tighter. Your breathing became labored, your head swimming a bit as you tried to get oxygen between squeaky whimpers. Your vision started to tunnel out as his hand slipped between your legs to rub at your clit, praising you for being such a good girl for him. 

“ _Yellow_!” you croaked out as you felt yourself starting to pass out.

The rope was gone before you were able to come back to yourself, thrown across the room as Sam pulled you into his lap and held you against his chest, pressing you into his white button-down shirt. "Breathe, doc. Gimme a count of four," he instructed. You took a deep breath, breathing in as you counted 'one, one-thousand, two, one-thousand, three, one-thousand, four, one-thousand'. "Good girl. Now, let it out for four." You did what he said, going through several rounds of four-count breaths before moving on to a round of six-count.

“I’m sorry,” you said, looking up at Sam.

“Don’t be sorry, Y/n.” He ran his hand up to your neck and ran his thumb along the mark the rope left behind. “This is why we use the colors. I should’ve paid better attention to how tight the noose was.”

“I feel like I killed the mood...on our wedding night.”

“No, baby, you didn’t kill the mood.” He moved you against his erection and kissed the tip of your nose. “See? Still in the mood. You still wet for me, doc?” You nodded. Of course you were still wet. You were always wet for him. “Then nothing’s wrong and we can get you back to green and move forward.”

“I’m good,” you whispered. “Green.”

“No, doc, that’s not how this works. I’m gonna get you a glass of water and you’re gonna stretch out the stiffness in your muscles and then we’re gonna get back to playing...maybe a little softer than I originally planned,” Sam said, smiling as he moved you off of his lap and set you on the bed. “Start stretching.”

You pulled your arms across your chest, then behind your head. Sam smiled as he handed you a glass of water. “I’m okay, sir.”

“Drink,” he said and there was no debate in the tone. You nodded and took a drink, then followed it with several gulps to drain the glass. “Good girl.” He reached out and took the cup from your hand, standing to take it back to the sink. He unbuttoned and shed his shirt before moving on to his pants. He climbed into bed with you and smiled as he took your hand. “Now, honestly, what’s your color?”

“Green,” you whispered, nodding.

“Okay.” He leaned down and kissed you as his hand moved between your thighs, rubbing at your pussy. His finger slipped into your pussy and your tongue licked at his. You rolled your hips against his hand as he kept fingering you. He pushed you backward to lie with your head on the pillow and covered your body with his. He grabbed your legs and wrapped them around his waist, before grabbing your wrists and pinning them to the bed. You whined at the feel of his strong hands holding you down. Sometimes it’s the simple things. “You don’t move. Understand me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“You don’t cum, either. Not until I’m ready for it.” You nodded and he smiled. “Good girl.” He attached his lips to your shoulder as he started grinding his cock into your clit. You gasped and bit your lip. “I like you loud, doc. Don’t bite that lip.” You released your lip and let your mouth hang open as he kept up his assault. Moans started falling from you as he rolled his hips. “There you go.”

When you started having to force yourself to keep your hips from rolling back against his, he pulled back from you and you whimpered like a kicked dog. “Please,” you begged.

“I said ‘not until I’m ready for it’,” he snapped. He nuzzled into your neck and waited for your breathing to even out before he let go of your wrist with one hand and reached down to line his cock up with your entrance. “Do you want my cock?”

“Yes, sir. Please.”

He dipped the head into you but didn’t push further. “How bad do you want it?”

“Sir, please! I want it so bad! I _need_ it.”

He chuckled and thrust in further, but still not all the way in. He secured your wrist, which you hadn’t moved, and kissed you as he slowly inched his way into you until he was completely sheathed within you. “Such a tight little pussy, doc. You fit so nice on my cock.” Sam licked your earlobe into his mouth and started a slow pace of thrusts. It took no time at all for you to start moaning, fighting to keep your body still by keeping your legs wrapped tight around his waist, digging your heels into the small of his muscular back. “You’re such a good girl for me.”

He kissed you and pulled out, flipping you onto your hands and knees and slowly re-entering you. “Color?” he asked, running his hand up your spine and wrapping it lightly around your throat. You gasped and clenched around his cock.

“Green, sir.”

He didn’t say anything else as he started thrusting, using his grip on your throat as leverage. His thick cock split you open as you moaned, hands twisting in the sheets as you tried to keep yourself from moving. You tried to drop your head to the mattress, but his grip tightened and he lifted you up so that your upper body was held above the mattress. Sam’s free hand came down on your outer thigh and you cried out, clenching hard as pain radiated from your skin to your clit. “I didn’t say you could relax, did I, doc?”

“No, sir. I’m sorry.”

His hand slapped your ass, then your thigh again before the hand around your neck moved to your hair, gathering it up and tugging hard. “Think I’m gonna go easy on you, let you get away with shit because it’s our wedding night?”

“No, sir,” you said, letting out a heavy sigh. “I didn’t mean to-”

“Didn’t mean _not_ to.” He reached around and brought his hand down to slap your clit. The scream you let out was sure to be heard across the entire bunker. “Oh, that’s gonna be embarrassing. How are you going to face our friends when they’ve heard you screaming like that?”

Your cheeks heated up with shame. It wasn’t often Sam pulled out the humiliation, it wasn’t one of your kinks and he usually respected that you didn’t like degradation and humiliation, but he definitely liked doling it out. Sometimes you felt like you were depriving him by hating to be put down and embarrassed. He always told you that was a ridiculous thought. 

“Sir. Please, can I...can I cum, please? Please! I need it!”

“I don’t think you do. I think you need to beg some more, doc.”

You could do begging.

“Please, please, sir, I need to cum, please let me cum, I need this so much, please. Please, please! Sir, please!”

“You beg so pretty.” He chuckled and released your hair, rubbing at your clit and fucking into you as fast as he could. 

Your orgasm didn’t creep up on you so much as jumped you in a back alley. You tried to hold it back, but you couldn’t. There was no way. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna-” You moaned as your muscles tightened and pleasure swept across your nerve endings. Sam followed you over, fucking you through your orgasm and into his own, filling you with cum as you both panted.

“Did I say you could cum, doc?” he asked as he pulled out and you fell limp to the mattress. “I’ll forgive you...since it’s our wedding night,” he finished with a chuckle as he settled in next to you on the bed.

“Thank you, sir.”

“I love you, Y/n.”

“Love you, too, sir,” you responded as he rolled you into his side. “First night as ‘Dr. Winchester’...calling it a success.”

‘Yeah. Me, too.” He kissed your forehead and you both closed your eyes to get some much-deserved sleep.


	2. Alone and Far From Home

**Summary** : Y/n gets stuck in another universe and meets a Sam that’s very different from her own.

**Story Warnings:** mentions of dom/sub relationship, hair-pulling, fat-shaming, Other Sam being an asshole

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You weren't even supposed to be there. But Sam and Dean thought, if Jack managed to get Mary back with his dreamwalker plan, their mom might need a doctor after so long in the Apocalypse World. When the angels attacked and Kaia freaked out, things kinda exploded, each of you getting tossed in different directions...and suddenly you were off the boat, in a place that didn't seem quite right.

It wasn't the Apocalypse World, things didn't seem quite so desolate, but there was a distinct feeling of something being wrong. You weren't near the shipyard, the Impala wasn't parked up on the road leading to it, your husband and brother-in-law were nowhere to be seen. You were alone. Scared...but at least the world where you found yourself wasn't burning. Small favors.

In fact...things seemed...normal. For one of Chuck's failed drafts, you were confused as to what made it a failure. The world seemed perfectly fine.

You walked through the town. The town was named Franklin, according to the signage, but that didn’t help you much. Franklin was the second most common town name in America. You didn’t know what state you were in. You didn’t know what universe you were in. Hell, you weren’t sure America was a _thing_ in this universe. Maybe you were stuck in the American Colonies of Britain. You had to figure out a way home but you didn’t even know where to start. Orienting yourself was the most important thing.

If Dean taught you anything in the years you lived with the Winchesters, it’s that paper maps from gas station convenience stores were an underrated resource. You walked into the first gas station you saw and looked around for the display of maps. ‘ **Texas** ’ shined at you. “Least I know where I am now,” you whispered, grabbing the map from the display before walking around the store, grabbing beef jerky and a bag of peanuts before moving to the shelf with the condiments and picking up two big boxes of Morton’s salt...just in case.

The clerk didn’t bat an eye at the twenty-dollar bill you handed him, so obviously this Texas was still part of the United States of America. It took you a while to find Franklin, Texas on the map spread out across a diner table but you found it. About a hundred miles South of Dallas, about seventy miles Northwest of Austin. Nowhere near home. Not that home was guaranteed to be there. Not that anything was guaranteed.

You weren’t sure how to proceed. Now you knew where you were, but you didn’t know where to go from there. As you sat back in the diner booth and ate your cheeseburger, your mind went to the you from this universe. You wondered where you were in this universe...still in Colorado? At the bunker? Maybe the you in this universe took the job at Sacred Heart Children’s Hospital in Pensacola, Florida instead of the job in Denver...maybe she was bikini-ready and tanned in the Sunshine State.

After you paid for your burger and left the diner, you walked down the street. You were contemplating hitching a ride to Kansas, maybe finding a computer with internet access to check on this universe. Something had to be different. Chuck wouldn’t have made this universe if things weren’t different from yours.

An empty house caught your eye, a sign in front saying it was for sale by Home and Ranch Real Estate. You went around to the back door and pulled out the lockpick set Sam gave you. It was a good thing he’d taught you how to pick locks...a skill you literally thought you’d never use. You smiled proudly as the door clicked and you got into the empty house. You shut the door, locked it behind you before pulling the salt out of the bag and lining all the doors and windows.

You went to the empty living room and settled against the far wall, away from all the windows. You were trying to keep from being overwhelmed by your situation. Trying to keep from falling to depression. What if you got stuck? What if you never made it home? What if you died so far from your home and husband?

The front doorknob started to try to jiggle and you gasped, afraid the cops had showed up to arrest you for trespassing, but when you sneaked up to the fisheye lens of the peephole, you could see a trio of black-eyed men. Demons.

You couldn’t leave. Whatever they wanted with you, they weren’t going to let you leave the house and the only thing keeping them out was the salt you put across the door. The door began to rattle as they started banging on the wood. It went on for what seemed like a half an hour, anxiety twisting your insides as the minutes passed.

The door stopped rattling and for just a minute you thought you might be safe. The salt must have been enough to hold them off. You were just about to let out a sigh of relief when the door exploded inward, making you cower and shield yourself from the wooden shrapnel. Your peripheral vision caught a boot stepping on the line of salt, disrupting it with the flick of a foot. "Always nice to have an excuse to leave the palace," a very familiar voice said. You cringed as the owner of that voice stepped closer. "Even if it's just to put down some fat hunter we missed in the Eradication."

You wanted to deny being a hunter, and lament him callously calling you fat, and mourn the loss of life that must have been 'the Eradication', but as you looked up at the face of your husband, coldness on his expression and black in his eyes...none of that came out. All that came out was, "Oh, god, what happened to you?"

Sam looked down at you, tilted his head slightly, and kneeled down to get a better look. Hazel took over the black and his eyebrows came together. "I know you from somewhere. We meet on a hunt?"

You shook your head. "I'm not a hunter...and I'm not supposed to be here." You licked your lips, instinctively twisting your engagement and wedding rings. "Sam, I'm from a different universe. I'm not supposed to be here."

"Then how do you know who I am, huh? Not a lot of people know my name these days. A couple hunters I let breathe for sentimental reasons, a handful of psychics who I employ, and all my demons of course, but you...you're not on that list."

You weren't sure exactly what to say to this Sam. He was scary and obviously not the same. But he was still Sam. "We were at Stanford together," you said, quietly. "We found each other again a couple years ago. We fell in love."

“Wait. Y/n? Y/n Y/l/n? From English II, Art History, and Pre-calc, right?” He gave that bright smile, but there was something twisted about it. Something _wrong_. This was the thing that was bad about this universe. This is what Chuck left behind. Sam was wrong.

“It’s Y/n Winchester now,” you whispered. “Dr. Y/n Winchester.”

Sam reached out and grabbed your left hand, examining the rings on your finger. “Dr. Y/n Winchester, huh? And how’d you get here, Dr. Y/n Winchester?”

“It’s a long story, but...um, there was a dreamwalker and a nephil and they opened a portal and then we were attacked before we could go to the universe we were supposed to go to and...I ended up here,” you answered. You were caught between wanting to yank your hand back from him and wanting to climb into his lap and bury your head in his chest. This was obviously not your Sam, but...his voice was the same, his face was the same, the way he smelled was the same.

“So, you’re alone.”

“I don’t think they came over with me, no. I hope they made it to the place they were supposed to be.”

“They? Who’s ‘they’?” he asked, moving his hand to your wrist.

You licked your lips. “You...and Dean...and the nephil, Jack.”

“Nephil. That’s a half-angel, right?” he asked.

“I feel like you’re interrogating me,” you whispered.

He chuckled, his smile twisting into a smirk. “Oh, you will _know_ when I’m interrogating you, bitch.” You snatched your hand back from him at the word. You had never liked to be called that. He laughed. “Obviously, I offended you. Your husband doesn’t use that word on you?”

You glared up at him. “My husband respects my limits and knows I don’t need any degradation in my life,” you snapped.

“I think your husband’s a soft little bitch himself, if he’s letting you dictate what he can call you.”

You scrambled back and up to your feet. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Sir is a goddamn gift and he’s stronger than you could ever be because you’ve obviously not been through what he went through.”

Sam scoffed and stood too, reaching his hand out to grab your hair. You gasped, grabbing his forearm as your pussy clenched around nothing at the jolt of pain. “You don’t know what I’ve been through. You couldn’t possibly understand, chubby bunny.”

You put your hand on his chest and tried to push him away, but he didn’t move. “You don’t care that I’m fat,” you growled. “You’re just trying to hurt me.”

“Like it takes effort.” He pulled you closer to him and looked down into your eyes. “And if you’re married to me, if you’ve talked limits and kinks with ‘Sir’...somethin’ tells me you like being hurt.”

“Not emotionally,” you ground out.

He twisted his hand tighter in your hair and you cried out, digging your fingernails into his arm as your pussy flooded with wetness. “You really _do_ like being hurt. Oh, no wonder I was able to look past that belly enough to put a ring on your finger. And you know what? I think I’m gonna take you back with me...see if I can’t look past that belly too.”

“No! I’m not-” You put up a struggle as he started to pull you toward the door, but you went stiff when he turned to you, his eyes black.

“You’re gonna do whatever the fuck I want, Y/n.” The black of his eyes made you shudder. “You’re talking to the King of Hell, slut, and I’m gonna do anything I want to you.”

“King of Hell?” you whispered, shocked. “How are you--what happened to-”

He chuckled and released your hair. “Not just scared, but inquisitive, too. Got a curious brain in that fat head,” he said, flicking your forehead with his middle finger as his eyes went back to hazel. He licked his thin, pink lips and crossed his arms over his chest. “Your Sam didn’t work with Ruby to save Dean from Hell, did he?”

“He did for a little while,” you whispered. “But she couldn’t save Dean. She-she didn’t want to. She was working with Lilith to break the seals on Lucifer’s Cage.”

Sam nodded knowingly. “She was. But I let her teach me how to use my powers, anyway. I wasn’t able to keep Dean out of Hell, but I was able to get him back. I mounted an offensive on the Pit, pulled him out myself.” You shook your head. Castiel didn’t pull Dean out? “Of course, he had strong feelings about _how_ I got him out. He really didn’t like me using the powers, drinking the blood. It put a strain on our relationship, to say the least.”

“But how did you take over as-”

“When I killed Lilith, the demons sort of fell into line with what Azazel told them...that I was supposed to be in charge and ‘lead the armies of Hell’.”

“But that’s not what you were on tap for, not really,” you argued.

“Oh, you know about that?” He smiled that cruel smile. “Yeah, I was supposed to be Lucifer’s vessel, but since Lilith and Azazel never felt the need to share that with anyone...I ended up in charge...and I discovered that I was surprisingly good at leading.”

“Dean let you do that?” you asked.

“Dean wasn’t really in a position to _stop_ me after I took him down a few pegs.”

You gasped. Dean had told you about how Sam acted when he was on the demon blood...how dark he was, how bad things were. They both told you about the fight in the hotel honeymoon suite. You could only imagine what _this_ Sam had done to his brother. This Sam, who was strong enough to be King of Hell...who was dark enough to have black eyes.

Suddenly, all you wanted was your husband holding you tight, telling you it was going to be okay, telling you to breathe. All you wanted was Sir.

“Come on. Don’t make me drag you out of here. I wouldn’t want to throw out my back,” he snapped, beckoning to you with two fingers.

“If I say ‘no’?” you squeaked.

“I can guess that you’re smart enough to know that’s a _bad_ idea, Y/n.” You swallowed heavily and looked down. “Besides...you wouldn’t say ‘no’ to _your_ Sam, would you?”

“You’re not my Sam,” you said quietly, walking toward the door. It wasn’t a good idea to fight him.

“I am _now_ ,” he said, following you out to the yard. The Impala was parked in the driveway and he pulled open the passenger side. You tried to find comfort in the familiar surroundings, but even the smell of Baby’s leather seemed off. You wanted to ask why Sam had the Impala, but you didn’t think you’d like the answer. “Get comfortable. We’ve got a long drive to Corpus.”

“What’s in Corpus Christi?” you asked.

He smiled. “My empire.”


	3. Please

**Summary** : Y/n doesn’t have much choice when it comes to the King of Hell. 

**Story Warnings:** dom/sub relationship, hair-pulling, fat-shaming, Other Sam being an asshole, slapping, pain play, **18+! HERE BE SEX!! DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!, Noncon!, Dubcon!,** unprotected sex

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You spent the drive to Corpus Christi worrying and overthinking, praying to Chuck and Jack and anyone who could hear that you would make it home to your Sam. As he pulled the Impala into a huge house, you’d even go so far as to call it a mansion, you gasped. There were demons everywhere. You could tell by their suits. 

“I hope demons don’t make you uncomfortable, tubby,” he said as he twisted the key to turn off the car.

You didn’t lament him calling you fat again. There was no point. “This whole situation makes me uncomfortable,” you whispered to yourself as you pushed the door open and got out. “This is...this is your empire?” You looked up at the building, _buildings_ , and swallowed. It was beautiful, there was no denying it.

“No. They’re my empire. This is my palace. Eight bedrooms, eleven bathrooms, a gym, two pools, a throne room, and a spa,” he said, getting out of the car and tossing the keys to a demon who immediately got into the car and drove toward the garage. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and forced you toward the house.

“What do you need with all that room?” you asked, hating how his embrace almost calmed you.

He hummed thoughtfully. “I don’t _need_ all this room. I like to have it.”

“But, eight bedrooms? Eleven bathrooms? That’s ridiculous. Even the bunker doesn’t have-”

“What bunker?” he asked, stopping and looking down at you.

You swallowed. “In my universe, we live in an underground bunker. It's not...opulent...but it does the job."

"And who lives in this bunker?" he asked, starting to move again. "You, me, my brother, the nephil?"

"Yes." You didn't mention Castiel as an on-again, off-again resident. Telling the King of Hell about your angel friend seemed like a bad idea. He walked you into the main house but you could see the pool through the windows of the building to the left. It was Olympic-size and sparkling.

"You swim?" he asked as he started through the halls. Demons nodded at him as he passed, but none made eye contact.

"Used to. I was on the swim team in middle school. Had to give it up because my studies suffered in high school."

"Probably shoulda kept up with it," he said, pushing you in front of him as he approached a large staircase to the second floor. "You sacrificed a healthy body for your grades. Where'd that get you?"

You turned on the first step and glared at him. "I'm perfectly healthy despite my weight and those grades got me into Stanford, Sam. I'm a _doctor_."

"And I'm a king," he growled, grabbing a fistful of your hair. You whimpered shamelessly as heat flooded your veins. "And you need to learn some fucking respect."

"I respect my Sam. You are-"

He slammed you against the metal banister, leaning your body back and hovering over you. "Unless you know how to jump dimensions without a nephil and a dreamwalker, you're fucking stuck here, bitch...so I _am_ your Sam now. Get fucking used to it." You grimaced at the pain in your back and grabbed his shoulder to pull yourself up a bit. "You're mine now, babe. My blue ribbon potbelly."

You fought back the tears that popped up at that, but it was a losing battle. Between the idea that you were never going to make it home and the idea that _this_ was going to be your Sam and being called 'bitch' and 'pig'...you were sniffling by the time he pulled away to allow you to walk up the stairs. "Definitely not the last time I'll make you cry," he muttered almost proudly as he followed you up the stairs. 

When you came to the landing at the top of the stairs, Sam led you to the hallway on the right but your eyes went to the hallway on the left. There were several doors in that direction, but two of them had armed demons standing guard. What was going on in those rooms?

Sam led you to the right, to a room without a guard, and headed inside. A huge bedroom greeted you. A queen XL bed on a dark, hardwood, sleigh frame in one room and a fireplace and library in an adjoining room, a huge bathroom just off from the main bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at you. He waved his hand and the door swung close behind you. You jumped and twisted to look at it. He looked amused at the shocked look on your face. “All kinds of new skills that come with the demon blood. Now, come here. On your knees,” he directed, pointing at his feet.

You shook your head. Getting on your knees for Sam was nothing new but this was not the same. This was not Sam. “No.”

Sam’s lips twisted into a cruel smirk and he chuckled. “Here I was, thinking that you were a good and obedient wife, not a fat little brat.” He reached his hand out and pressure covered your body, like the gravity in your space was turned up. Your knees buckled and you fell to the hardwood floor. “No big deal. I’ll train the brat out of you.”

He leaned forward and reached out, grabbing your hair and pulling you to the area in front of him. "Now. Tell me a story, Doc Winchester.” You raised your head to look up at him, feeling nostalgia at hearing him say the word ‘Doc’.

“What kind of _story_ , Sam?”

“Well, first thing, you don’t call me ‘Sam’, bitch. You called your Sam ‘sir’, right? You’re gonna call me ‘Master’.”

You sneered up at him, fire in your belly as you gritted your teeth. “Fine. What kind of story...Master?”

“There you go, bunny. That wasn’t too hard, was it?” he said, leaning back and getting comfortable. “Tell me how you and Sir got together. How did the hero Sam Winchester end up with Li’l Miss Piggy?”

You swallowed. “He was on a werewolf hunt, came into my Emergency Department to find out about a man who was attacked a couple months before. I recognized him...he eventually recognized me. We shared some memories of Stanford and he asked me to have a drink with him. One thing led to another and-”

“ _No_.” He shook his head and sighed dramatically. “I told you to tell me a story. What one thing led to what other thing?”

“We...had some drinks and we talked about the Farm and I...I told him that I didn’t think he even knew my name and never liked me. You told me that you thought I was always glaring at you in class, but...I was staring, because of course I was.” You looked away from him, focusing on his boots. “And when I told you...that Brady tried to get me to talk to you…”

“Brady?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, Tyson Brady, your old best friend, who got possessed and set you up with-”

“I remember him. I didn’t know you knew Brady.”

“Yeah. He was pre-med.”

“So was Jessica. You knew Jessica?” he asked, and it was the closest his tone had gotten to the soft sweetness of the Sam you knew.

“Yes...Master...I knew her.”

“Well...lucky you. Now _she_ was a sub worth having. Sweet, innocent, sexy...body like a dancer.” You closed your eyes and willed yourself not to react. He was just trying to hurt you. Seemed to be his favorite pastime. “Everything you’re not.”

“You’re right. She was perfect and I could never fill her shoes.”

“Never fit in them. Now, keep going. You went for drinks, told him about Brady, then what?”

“You told me I was your type, that Brady hadn’t been fucking with me when he told me to talk to you...and then you…” You shook your head. Not Sam. “ _He_ explained that my body might be completely different from what he normally went for, but he was more interested in my personality. He liked me because I was…” Your throat seized around the word and Sam reached out to grab your hair. He didn’t have to tell you to finish the sentence. “Corruptible.”

You shivered at the smirk on his lips. It was so not Sam. You averted your eyes to look to the left of him, wishing you could drop your head. “He said...he said I couldn’t even imagine the things he wanted to do to me and that was innocence and that’s what he liked. So he took me back to my place and...I told him I’d never been s-spanked, never been hurt like that and he agreed not to touch--respected my soft limits for the first night. T-tied me to my headboard and we both...both en-enjoyed ourselves.”

“So he didn’t even hurt you? What a fucking waste!”

You whimpered as he yanked on your hair. “He did the next day!”

“Oh? And how much pain did he give you the next day? What’d he do?”

“He just spanked me,” you whined, bending your body to stay on your knees, but loosen some of the pressure on your scalp. “He didn’t get into the choking and biting until I moved into the bunker!”

He let go of your hair and you sighed in relief as he stood. “But you do like pain, right?” he asked, looking down at you. “Bet you’re wet from me pulling your hair.”

You didn’t deny it, but you hoped he wouldn’t check. Hair-pulling was as bad as spanking, sure to get you wet every time. “I like some,” you answered quietly. “Not...not most.”

“So, what pain does _Sir_ give you?” he asked, smoothing his hand over your messy hair.

“He...he spanks me, chokes me, pulls my hair, clamps my nipples, bites me...and we...we started playing with electro.”

He hummed and reached down to tip your head back. “You know what I didn’t hear in all that? ‘Master’.” Panic rushed through you at the way his eyes went black. “If you can’t address me properly, I’m going to have to punish you, piggy.”

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

You shrieked as his right hand cut through the air and impacted your left cheek and ear. Pain, heat, and a ringing in your ear made you whimper, but your body reacted regardless, cunt clenching around nothing at the action and tears filling your eyes. Sam never slapped you, never put marks on you somewhere so visible, and it was offensive to you that this Sam would slap you like that. Humiliate you like that. 

“Oh. You’ve got nice eyes when you’re crying,” he complimented before letting his hand fly again. The force of the second slap almost sent you across the floor, but you put your hands down and forced yourself back into a kneeling position. “She’s like a Weeble. Wobbles but doesn’t fall down.” He chuckled at his joke before striking with his left hand, catching your right side. “Fuck, that’s nice. You can take a fuckin’ hit, can’t you?” He bent down in front of you and ran his thumb through your tears. “Well, you got one thing on Jess then. She never could take the pain.”

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me yet, _Master_ ,” you snapped.

“Just couldn’t keep your mouth shut, could you?” he returned, as his hands went to his belt, opening it and pulling it from the loops of his pants. It took no time for him to loop the belt back in on itself to create a pair of leather handcuffs. “Hands behind your back, bitch,” he demanded.

“No, please, I don’t-”

“Hands behind your back, now.”

You whined as you reluctantly put your hands behind your back and he bent down behind you to secure your hands with his belt, pulling the leather tight around your wrists. “Fuck, that hurts!”

“You’re really having a problem with that mouth, aren’t you? Well, I’m just gonna have to stuff it with something.” He stepped around in front of you and popped the button on his jeans. You clamped your lips together as he pulled his cock out and pumped it to get it hard. You tried to turn your head away as he slapped your lips with his dick. “Open your fucking mouth, bitch.” When you refused to do what he said, he reached out and pinched your nose closed. You fought to keep your mouth closed, but it didn’t work. When you cracked open the side of your mouth to sneak a breath, he hooked his thumb in-between your lips and pried your mouth open. “You bite me and I will make you regret it,” he promised.

He shoved his cock in your mouth and you immediately gagged as the head hit your tonsil. He grabbed your hair in both hands and started fucking your face, giving you little chance to breathe between thrusts. Tears streamed down your face mixed with drool and pooled on your breasts, wetting your shirt. “All the way down,” he groaned as he pushed deep into your throat. “That’s a good fuckin’ slut.”

You swallowed around him and he groaned as your head started to go a bit woozy. He licked his lips and pulled out of your mouth, allowing you to cough and spit before he grabbed your biceps and picked you up. He hummed and appraised you for a moment before reaching down and popping the button on your jeans. “ _No_ ,” you moaned as he threw you facedown on the bed.

His hand came down on your ass and he tucked his fingers into your waistband, yanking your pants and underwear down to your feet. “You don’t get to tell me ‘no’, slut.” He slapped his hand across your ass and smirked at the way your butt jiggled. “You wouldn’t tell your husband ‘no’, you won’t tell your master ‘no’.”

“Please don’t!”

He leaned over you, his body a hard plane across yours, pushing your arms painfully into your back. “If you really want me to stop, you won’t be wet,” he whispered in your ear.

“That’s not fair!” you shrieked as he moved away. You knew what he’d find, could feel your pussy being cooled by the air on your wet cunt, but it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t that you wanted him to be touching you, but it was _Sam_ and sucking his cock always got you wet.

“Fair? You’re dealing with the King of Hell,” he reminded, cupping your cunt. His middle finger slipped between your pussy lips and rubbed lightly at your clit. “You don’t want me to stop, bunny...so I’m not going to.” Your whole body jerked as he started rubbing light circles over the bundle of nerves. “You’re really responsive, aren’t you? I think I’m starting to see what your husband sees in you. Once we get the brat in you tamed, you’ll be a perfect slut for me.”

You tried to twist your body away from his fingers, but he just reached out and pushed your head into the mattress, sliding his other hand up to your entrance. “Wet, needy, _tight_ little cunt. No wonder he put a ring on your finger,” he commented as he started slowly thrusting his middle finger in and out of you.

“Fuck,” you whimpered as he pressed the pad of his finger into the spongey spot inside you that felt so good. You bit your tongue to keep from asking for more or for release. How this Sam knew exactly how to touch you was an enigma, but he did. You squeezed your eyes shut as he added a second finger and curled them against your walls. You whimpered and tried to twist away from him again, but he moved his hand from your face and put it on your hip to hold you in place.

“Stop moving,” he commanded, fucking his fingers into you harder. “You know you like it, bitch.” You shook your head, but his thumb crushed down on your clit and you moaned. “Say it. Tell me how much you like it.” You whined, not wanting to admit how good he was making you feel. “ _Say it_!”

“I like it!” you moaned, shame filling you as he added a third finger and twisted them. “It’s so good, Master!” You hated it, but you could feel your orgasm building. You also couldn’t stand how easily ‘Master’ slipped into that sentence.

He chuckled darkly and leaned over your body again. “I bet you fuckin’ _hate_ that,” he said as he pulled his fingers out of you. You gasped at the feeling of his cockhead prodding at your pussy and you bit your lip to keep yourself from crying out as he started to work his thick length into you. “I don’t need to tell you not to cum, right?”

That was all the warning you got before he started to thrust into you, harsh movements bouncing you into the mattress and back. Against your better judgement, you turned your head into the mattress, trying to stifle the moans you didn’t want to be moaning. He felt just like Sir, though, his cock stretching you in the exact same way and hitting all the same places. Your breath was labored as you pulled air in through the mattress. But you kept going.

“Fuck. Your cunt is so fucking tight.” He thrust deep into you and held there. “Good girls say ‘thank you’ when they receive a compliment.”

“Thank you, Master,” you moaned into the mattress.

“She’s learning,” he said, chuckling as he started to thrust again. 

Your ability to breathe was hindered to the point of wooziness, so you turned your head to the side and gasped in a huge breath of air. Your muscles started clenching as he sped up. “Please, please, please, Master, please,” you begged, feeling the telltale signs of an approaching orgasm. 

“Please? Please what, slut?” he grunted, snapping his hips against your ass harder.

“Can I cum?! Please, please, can I cum? I need--I can’t--- _Please_!”

He laughed as he reached under you and squeezed your breast. “ _No_.” 

You whimpered as you focused on anything you could to keep yourself from cumming. If Sir was mean about you cumming without permission, then this Sam was sure to be downright malicious. You focused on the pain in your arms, the pain in your scalp, the indignation of being forced and treated like a sex toy, the way he kept calling you fat...and that helped for a few minutes, until the hand grabbing your breast slipped down your body to your clit. You screeched and jerked, hips pushing back against him. “Please, don’t!” you begged, knowing you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself if he kept it up. “Please!”

He didn’t relent, biting at your shoulder as he rubbed your clit and fucked into you. You managed to hold off a little longer, but then he leaned over you to whisper in your ear again. “You really do have one of the best pussies I’ve ever fucked. You wanna cum for your king, don’t you? I can feel it, you’re grippin’ me so fuckin’ tight.” You whimpered, nodding, overwhelmed by the way he was working you. “You’re gonna cum, aren’t you, Doc?”

The way he said that name...just like your husband...it pushed you over the edge. You weren’t even halfway through the orgasm before the panic set in. What was he going to do to you? He just chuckled and fucked into you a few more times before his breath caught, a familiar grunt filling your ear as his cock twitched and he coated your cunt with his seed. 

“You’re in trouble, bunny,” he said as he pulled out of you and dropped to the bed beside you. “You weren’t supposed to cum.”

“I cou--you made--”

“No excuses, bitch!” he said, slapping your ass. You barely moved as he pulled your shoes off and tugged your jeans off. “Get the shirt and the bra off and stand up.” He undid the belt cuffs and you stood, grabbing the edge of your shirt, pulling it off on autopilot. He grabbed up your clothes and walked them to the fireplace in the library, tossing them and your shoes into the flame. Your jaw dropped as you watched your clothes burn. "Sluts don't need clothes," he said as he walked over and grabbed your elbow. 

As he pulled you toward the door, you tried to plant your feet, not wanting to leave his room naked. "Please, please, don't make me-"

He sighed heavily and looked down at you. “The time for begging is over. You’re going to walk down the hall with all my men staring at your fat ass and if you try to cover up, I’m gonna slap the shit out of you.” Humiliation filled you as he opened the door and guided you out into the hallway. There were demons in the hallway and you had to fight yourself to keep your arms at your sides. “Grab a gun from the armory and meet me at the third cell,” he commanded the first demon he came across. The demon nodded and disappeared as Sam walked up toward the other side of the hallway where the armed guards were standing.

You cringed as the demons swept their eyes down your body, but you made sure not to cover up until Other Sam opened the third door and pushed you inside. It was a small bedroom with a full-size bed, a dresser, a bookshelf and two bedside tables. It didn’t look like a cell. “This is…” You couldn’t think of a word to call it.

“You might be here by force, but that doesn’t mean I have to treat you like a prisoner, bunny.”

You looked in the direction of the other two rooms with the guards. “Who else is here...by...f-force?”

Sam just smiled and stepped out of the room. “My king, is she on the same rations as the other two?” the demon from before asked as she appeared in the doorway.

Sam smirked as he looked over you. “No. Every other day.”

“Sir?” she asked for confirmation.

“She’s got enough blubber on her to keep her going for a few days without food. So, one meal every other day.”

“You’re going to starve me?” you blurted out.

“Maybe we’ll get rid of some of that sass if you don’t have the energy to keep it up,” he practically growled before he waved his hand and the door shut by itself.

You took a deep breath and looked around the room...your cell. Naked, shamed, cum dripping down your thigh, about to be deprived of food by a twisted version of the man you love. What were you going to do? How were you going to get out of this? Were you ever going to see home, see Sam again? Could you face your husband again after what just happened?

You sat down on the edge of the bed and started crying. How could everything get so messed up? How could you have let him do that to you?

“Hey!” a whispered voice pulled you out of your self-pity. You looked around the room but didn’t see anyone. “Down here. The vent.”

You slipped off the bed and got down on your hands and knees to look into a vent on the wall. There was a dark air duct and on the other side was another vent, but you could barely see through it. “Who’s there?”

“You first.”

“Um...Doc,” you answered. 

“You a hunter, Doc?”

“No.” You swallowed and shook your head. “No. My husband is. I’m nobody.”

“Obviously not nobody. These rooms ain’t reserved for nobodies.” The tone of his voice kicked off a cascade of recognition from you.

“Dean?” you asked, struggling to see through the vent. “Is that you?”


	4. Don't Move

**Summary** : Y/n doesn’t have much choice when it comes to the King of Hell.

**Story Warnings:** dom/sub relationship, hair-pulling, fat-shaming, cockwarming, Other Sam being an asshole, pain play, humiliation, **18+! HERE BE SEX!! DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!, Noncon!, Dubcon!,** unprotected sex, non-explicit wincest, mentions of torture.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"I know you?" Dean asked, and you were certain it was Dean now.

"No, I suppose you don't," you whispered. "But I know _you_. Where I'm from...you're like a brother to me...you're my brother-in-law."

Silence filtered through the vent for a few moments before, "Where you're from?"

"Another dimension...universe...whatever you wanna call it. Sam and I got married not too long ago...and then I got stuck here."

"You married that monster?"

You almost sobbed at that sentence because no, no you did not marry that monster. "No, he's not like that where I'm from." You sniffled and tried to compose yourself. You were a doctor. You were a hunter's wife. You knew better than anyone that you couldn't be falling apart. It wouldn't help anything. "He's caring and smart and loving. He's a hunter...not…"

Emotion choked the words. You were never going to see him again. You were never going to feel that support, that love.

"Your Sam...didn't drink the blood?" Dean asked.

"A...a bit, but not to the scale this one did. Not enough to take Hell, to get you out. It took him almost a year to be able to take on Lilith and Heaven has already pulled you out by then."

"Heaven?" he asked.

"Yeah. An-an angel named Castiel, his battalion mounted an offensive on Hell to pull you out." You could hear him scoff derisively. "It's true, Dean. The angels, they pulled you out. Heaven needed you."

"Heaven ain't real, Doc. Angels aren't real. There's Hell and there are demons and there is Sam. I mean, if there were angels, where the fuck are they?" You looked up, wondering if praying would do any good in this universe. Praying, specifically, to Castiel...would that do anything in a dimension where the angels stayed upstairs and didn't kick off the Apocalypse? "If Heaven gave a damn about us, Sam wouldn't be allowed to do the things he does to us."

You could only imagine the 'things' Dean was lamenting. You knew what Other Sam had done to you in just the short time he'd known you, but Dean had been in Sam's control for years...almost a decade if your math was right. "They're up there, Dean. I'm...sure they're up there."

"Sure. My mom thought there were angels watching over me. She burned to death thinkin' it." The bitterness in his voice made your heart hurt. "Look, lemme give you some advice...don't fight him."

"What?" You had never heard Dean advocate for just giving in.

"If you fight him, he'll get off on breaking you. The faster you give in, the less it's gonna hurt in the long run."

You swallowed and looked away from the vent. “If I give in, then I’m betraying my Sam. I’m betraying-”

“So fuckin’ what? If your Sam is so different than mine, he’ll understand!” Dean snapped. “ _Listen to me_! Doc, are you listening?”

You looked back into the vent, trying to see Dean’s familiar features. “Yeah. I’m listening.”

You caught a flash of green eyes through the slats of the vent. “You ever been to Hell, Doc?”

“No.”

“If you challenge him, if he thinks you’re gonna take extra effort, extra _time_ , you’re gonna go. He’ll take you down and you’ll learn what pain really is. I’m sure your husband wouldn’t want that for you.” The idea of Other Sam taking you to Hell sent a wave of nausea over you. “What he’s gonna do to you here, that’s _nothing_ compared to what he’d do to you in Hell. He’s gonna humiliate you, he’s gonna hurt you, but he will _not_ torture you in this mansion. He won’t tear you apart in his home.”

You buried your face in your hands. What were you supposed to do? Just give in to this monster wearing your husband’s face? “I can’t...what do I do?”

“Whatever he tells you to do. Doc, just do whatever Sam wants. Do you understand me? Just do whatever he wants. It’s not so bad if you give in.” You moved to hug your legs and set your head against your knees. You weren’t sure if Dean knew what he was asking you to give in to. “So...how’d you get here?”

“Portal,” you answered, biting the inside of your bottom lip.

“Yeah? Just opened up and sucked you in?”

You weren’t sure if he was trying to distract you or actually trying to get real information. “We were trying to get somewhere else. Trying to save M-” You cut yourself off, not wanting to mention Mary. It would just complicate things. “My mom. She got stuck in another...worse world. The Apocalypse happened over there...things are really bad there. We were trying to get her back but things went...I just hope my Sam and Dean got where they needed to go.”

“I’m sure they did. I’m…” A moment of silence made you lift your head. “Your Sam and Dean good brothers? They rely on each other?”

“Yeah. They had a lot of shit to get through, but they always lean on each other.”

“Then maybe they’ll show up to get you out of here. Get some rest, Doc. You’re gonna need to conserve energy.” You opened your mouth to argue, but Dean continued. “Sam’s always insatiable when it comes to new toys.”

You swallowed heavily and stood, slipping under the blanket on the bed and curling up on your side. Just give in. Save your energy. Do whatever he wants. Stay alive. Stay out of Hell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were sleeping very lightly. Deep sleep wouldn't come, no matter how comfortable the bed was. You heard the doorknob twist and let your eyes flutter enough to see Sam leaning against the doorway. “Rise and shine, bunny,” he said, quietly. Fear zinged up your spine to settle at the base of your skull. “I’m not gonna get in the habit of repeating myself, Y/n.”

You took a deep breath and sat up, looking across the room warily. You licked your lips and averted your eyes. “Good mo-morning, Master.”

His mouth twisted into a smirk. “I’m impressed. Figured it’d take a few weeks, at least.” He stepped closer, tilting his head as he examined you. “Someone got some advice last night, didn’t she?” You closed your eyes and tried to get your body to stop the fearful shivering. “It’s okay. That’s why I put you in this room. I was hoping you’d learn a thing or two from someone who’s been doing this a few years.” Sam chuckled as he set his hand against your cheek. Your eyes opened and caught his. “See, that’s funny because he spent so much of that time in Hell and time works so different down there. I took him back there, thought he’d be an easy conquest, but he made me keep him down there for four _years_. You know how long that is down there?”

Your mind made quick work of the math. “Almost five hundred years,” you answered before adding a quick “Master”.

“Good job. You definitely earned that MD, didn’t you? Yeah, he was a stubborn bastard, gets it from our dad, but I broke him eventually and now he’s one of my _favorite_ toys.” His hand moved down to wrap around your neck. “But he’s never had competition for that position before.”

You had to fight a defiant sneer. Sam referring to either of you as ‘toys’ pissed you off...and the thought that Sam might play with Dean in anything close to the same way that he played with you...you swallowed down a wave of nausea and took a deep breath. “I wouldn’t want to take anything from Dean.”

He chuckled and licked his lips. “I got time for both of you, don’t you worry.” He hummed thoughtfully and tapped his fingers against your neck. “Now, I seem to remember you’re owed a punishment for last night.”

You gasped at the reminder. “M-master, I-”

He shushed you, shaking his head slightly. “It’s not gonna hurt...as long as you take your punishment like a good girl.”

All you could think of was what horrible thing he would do. “I...yes, Master, I will be good, but…”

“No buts. Will you be good or will I have to hurt you?”

“Please, don’t hurt me,” you whispered.

He smiled and nodded. “Good. Now...we’re going to go downstairs to the throne room. I’m gonna conduct my business and you’re gonna sit on my lap the whole time.” You were just starting to think that wasn’t so bad when he continued, “And you’re gonna have my cock in your cunt the entire time.” Your eyes went wide and he smiled cruelly. “You’re gonna be my little cockwarmer while I hold court and if you do a good job, I won’t pull out the riding crop.”

Being naked in front of all of his demons was one thing, one very horrible and embarrassing thing, but actually being speared open by his cock in front of them? “O-okay. Ye-yes, Master.”

You followed him out of the room, trying to make yourself small as you walked down the hallway and down the stairs, careful to not cover yourself. He wanted you ashamed. He wanted your face burning, your skin hot, and your body tense. You were just going to have to muscle through and deal with it.

The throne room was smaller than you expected but the throne was almost exactly what you imagined. Huge, black, high-backed, with carved lions on the armrests and crystals on the tufting. It looked big, even after Other Sam sat on it and settled back. He smirked as he pulled open his jeans and pulled his cock out, wiggling his clothes down just enough to release himself. He ran his fist up and down his hardening length a few times before nodding at his lap. “Climb on, bitch.”

You took a shaking breath and moved forward, settling into his lap facing the back of the throne. You raised up and he set the head of his dick at your entrance. You weren’t wet so it took some maneuvering to get him into you and you let out a sigh of relief when you were completely settled against his lap. “So, just...stay like this?” you asked, quietly.

“Yeah. You stay like that until I get done with my work, and if you don’t complain or try to move, you’re gonna get a surprise.”

“Th-thank you.”

You tried to ignore it as demons filed into the room. Tried to ignore it and focus on one of the crystal tufts behind Sam as your face heated with shame, though you couldn’t help but hide your face in his chest as he started talking soul counts and hunter sightings. He reached up and grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking your head back. You clenched around him and whimpered as you felt yourself get wet. “I say you could hide?” he growled in your ear.

“No, Master,” you whined. “I’m sorry.”

“Ask me,” he demanded.

“May I hide my face, Master?” you asked quietly, fully expecting a ‘no’ and a cruel smirk.

Instead, he let go of your hair and ran his hand down your spine. “Go for it.”

“Oh, thank you, Master!” you exclaimed, before hiding your face in his chest. His hand moved up and down your spine, a strangely soothing and arousing action when paired with his cock stationary in your pussy. It didn’t take long for you to be rolling your hips ever so slightly, fingers digging into the black wood armrests. All you wanted was to bounce, fuck yourself on him until your body exploded with pleasure. But you weren’t even supposed to be _moving_. You buried your face further into his shirt, breathing in his Sam smell and imagining for just a few moments that he was Sir.

Sir would never humiliate you like that. Your Sam would never expose you like that. Your Sam would never let anyone else see what belongs to him. Other Sam was not anything close to your Sam.

“That’s enough for today,” Other Sam said after what seemed like way longer than it should have taken for a simple meeting. “Get out.” You kept hiding until you stopped hearing movement in the throne room, then you pulled back to look at him. “You were moving.” You opened your mouth to apologize but he grabbed your waist and started thrusting up into you so all that came out was a screeching sound. His hand buried in your hair and yanked you backward, off-balance so that you had to hold onto the armrests to keep yourself up while he fucked into you. “Knew you were a whore. Couldn’t even keep yourself from fucking yourself on me.”

“Oh, God!” you cried out, clawing at the wood.

“Whores can’t fuckin’ help themselves. Say it! Say ‘I’m a whore and I couldn’t help myself’,” he demanded.

“I-I, fuck, I’m a whore and I couldn’t help myself!” you whimpered.

He chuckled and used his grip on your waist to push you off of him. You fell to your ass on the hardwood floor and winced in pain. “You don’t deserve to get fucked, bitch,” he said, standing and tucking himself back into his jeans. “Stand up...actually, better yet, stay there...crawl. Let’s get you back to your room.”

You whined, but you followed him out of the room on your hands and knees. He walked slow, smiling that cruel smile as you flushed with shame at every demon you passed in the halls and climbing the stairs. Your knees hurt by the time you got to the landing at the top of the stairs. You were more than a little relieved when he waved his hand and opened your cell door. You crawled in and turned to look at him, but he just shut the door tight and you were alone.

For a minute, you considered playing with yourself. You were sexually frustrated to no end and you just wanted to cum...but then you heard Sam’s voice through the vent. “You met my new toy, huh?” You moved to the vent and tried to look into the adjacent cell, but you couldn’t see anything, so you pressed your ear to the grate to hear better. “She’s a sweet little piece of some other world. Maybe I’ll let you meet her in person sometime. Would you like that, D.?”

“Yes, sir. I would.” Dean barely sounded like himself. He said Sam broke him...and he definitely sounded broken.

“She’s a desperate little cockslut...and so _tight_. Remember when you used to be tight?" You gagged a little at that sentence. "Before I wrecked your asshole." You could hear Dean moan and you didn't want to guess whether it was pain or not. "She got me all worked up, but I couldn't give her my cock. She wanted it too much. So, it's your turn, bro. Open up."

You were a bit sick to your stomach as you pulled away from the vent, hoping the sound wouldn't travel but you could still hear the sloppy sucking and gagging sounds coming from the other room. You were sick that Sam would do that to Dean. It was worse that he’d do it to Dean than he’d do it to you, because that was his brother! That was his big brother and you were just another version of Sam’s wife.

You wanted to escape. You wondered if Dean had tried. The way it sounded, Sam broke Dean in Hell, so maybe Dean hadn’t even given escape a try before. Maybe you could get him out. Maybe you could help him remember that he was Dean fucking Winchester, not Sam Winchester’s favorite _toy_. Maybe you could get out before Sam decided that _you_ were his new favorite.

The large oil painting of a coastal scene hanging on the wall above your bed shook as a loud thud went through the wall. A loud moan transferred through the vent and you gasped. “--like it,” Sam’s voice seemed to accuse Dean and you choked back tears. Dean didn’t deserve this. He didn’t-

“Please, Sam. I need it,” Dean begged. “It’s been days. I need your cock.”

Your eyes went wide. You didn’t want to hear it anymore. You needed to muffle the sounds. You couldn’t hear Dean beg like that...not for Sam. You grabbed a pillow off of your bed and pressed it against the vent before moving the side table to hold the pillow against it. But you could still hear.

Dean’s moans were definitely pleasure moans, and Sam’s were intimately familiar to you. You recognized them and the tone of whatever words you couldn't make out through the pillow muffle.

You really never imagined that Sam would break Dean the same way he was breaking you. You never imagined Sam-

Sam wasn't gay! He wasn't even bi! As long as you had known him, he had never even _hinted_ that he might want to stick his dick in a man's ass, let alone his big brother's! Was it just a fucking power play? Was it just to keep Dean in his place? Is it another kind of torture? Because through the wall it sounded like they were both enjoying themselves...but then again, it probably seemed that way to anyone listening through the walls when Sam fucked you on his bed.

It _was_ torture. It was humiliating and shameful. It made you doubt everything you thought you knew about yourself, your limits, and your loyalties...and that had to be Sam's reason behind it. Sam, even your Sam, had a bit of a sadistic streak and this situation gave him every opportunity to let that out. Sam was King of Hell and you were a lot easier to break than his brother.

You moved to the bed and wrapped your remaining pillow around your ears.


	5. Collars and Rings

**Summary:** Doc can’t just sit on her ass and let King Sam do whatever he wants.

**Story Warnings:** dom/sub relationship, hair-pulling, fat-shaming, Other Sam being an asshole, pain play, humiliation, non-explicit wincest, mentions of torture, violence to reader, forced collaring

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You woke to quiet. You had never been so happy for silence. You must have fallen asleep while trying to keep the sounds from the next room out of your head. Your stomach hurt with hunger, but you were so sick about what happened in the other room that you weren’t sure you’d be able to eat even if Sam _did_ decide to feed you.

You looked out the window to see that the sun was just going down. You were probably going to be up all night. You pulled the pillow away from the vent and looked through the slats. “Dean?”

“Yeah?” he responded after a minute. He sounded exhausted.

“A-are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m dandy.”

You shook your head. One thing never changed, Winchesters downplay their damage. “This is...what he’s doing isn’t okay...we have to get out of here.”

“There is no ‘out of here’. I know what you’re thinking, Doc, but...there’s no escape.”

“What are you talking about? We can get-”

“Out of the mansion, sure. Outta Corpus Christi, _maybe_ , but there is no way out of Sam’s domain...because the whole of Earth, anywhere there’s a soul worth corrupting, is Sam’s domain.”

“You can’t just not try!”

“I _tried_ , Doc,” he insisted. “It’s not worth it. It’s not worth it for him to catch you and drag you back here! Or worse...Hell.”

“Dean...I know he broke you, but...you...we can’t stay here to be used and humiliated and treated like sex toys.”

“We _are_ his sex toys. That’s not gonna change. Fighting it just makes it worse,” he said.

“No. You are his brother...and I’m a doctor, for fuck’s sake. You’re a hunter! I’m a hunter’s wife. We aren’t his toys!” you tried.

“You were a doctor. You are his toy. Go back to sleep, Doc. Dream of better times.”

“No,” you whispered, standing and looking around your room. You weren’t going to sit idle like Dean. You were going to escape. First thing, you needed to cover your fat ass. You pulled the sheet off of the bed and wrapped it around your body, knotting it in several places to keep it on your body. Then you went to the window. There was no balcony, no ledge, but you were only on the second story. If you tied the blanket off, maybe you could drop down without hurting yourself too much.

You were surprised that the window opened. You were sure that it would have been nailed shut. It wasn’t though, and the screen was easily pulled off and tossed into your room. You could see demons in the distance, but none close to the house. You could do this. You could get out of there.

You ended up having to drop about six feet but you didn’t break anything. You ran barefoot across the hot, dry grass heading for the street Sam drove you in on. You remembered a house not far down the road. Hopefully, there were people there...or, in the very least, not demons.

Your first instinct was to bang on the door, but you didn’t follow it, looking around the house, surveilling the interior. The lights were off and it didn't seem like anyone was home and you looked around the edges of the windows to see there were no security tags on the edges. No system to go off when you pried the window open and climbed inside.

You needed better clothes, some shoes, and something for a weapon...though what sort of weapon could you use against the King of Hell?

You focused on clothes and shoes first, looking around the master bedroom for anything that might fit. The pants you found were a bit tight, but you grabbed a hair tie from the woman's vanity and threaded it through the buttonhole to the button, giving you a few extra inches. The shirt you found was an oversized sleep shirt but it fit you just fine. The husband's boots fit perfectly.

You were tempted to leave a note apologizing for the theft, but you didn’t. Sam wouldn’t have. You simply tied the boots, grabbed a duffel bag from the closet and filled it with food from the kitchen. You then left, bag slung over your shoulder. You wished you had learned how to hotwire a car. That would make it so fucking easy.

You were hoping to find your way to Lebanon, talk to Larry Ganem and persuade him to give you the key to the bunker, go home to the most warded and protected place in America. Sam would look for you there, right? But not Other Sam. Other Sam didn’t know where the bunker was.

You were nervous to hitchhike. You’d seen the horror movies and heard the horror stories and Sir had made you sit through a whole documentary about interstate serial killers picking up hitchers and murdering them, but...you had no other choice. It took a day and a half to get there, but eventually, the familiar streets of Lebanon greeted you.

You didn’t know where Larry Ganem lived, but you were going to find out. You got out of the back of the pickup truck you were riding in and waved at the driver as you walked away with your stolen duffel bag. You weren’t sure where to start, but you knew you needed to eat something before you figured it out.

You went to the park where Sir does his morning runs and sat at a picnic table. You pulled a box of Cheez-its out of the duffel bag and ate a few. You made it to Lebanon. You made it almost home. Now to find Larry and get the bunker open. You were so fucking exhausted, though. You were trying to keep yourself from freaking out. You just had to get to the bunker and then you could relax until Sam found you.

“Doc!” The sound of Sam’s voice made you go stiff and you looked up in alarm. Sam was running across the park, but which Sam was it? “Thank God, I found you!” he said as he skidded to a stop in front of you. “I knew you’d come home, Doc,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around you.

You sobbed into his chest and wrapped your arms around him, too, dropping a handful of crackers behind his back as you cried into his shirt. He rubbed his hand up and down your spine, shushing you. “It’s okay, baby. We’re gonna be okay.”

“W-where’s Dean?” you asked.

“He’s back at the bunker, in our universe. Let’s go home, Doc.” He pulled back and looked down at you. “The tear’s not too far from here, Y/n. Let’s get outta here.”

You nodded, taking a shaking breath and following him as he led you by the hand across the park. “Wh-where did you end up?”

“Dean and I ended up in the Apocalypse universe.”

“Did you find your mom?” you asked.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Safe and sound? The archangels didn’t-”

Sam turned to you with a smile and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll tell you all about it as soon as we get home, okay?”

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Portal’s over here in this barn.” Sam gestured at a large metal building.

You were so happy to be going home that you rushed ahead of him, throwing open the door and running in...to the empty barn. Fear fell over you as you turned to look at Sam. “Where’s the tear?”

He shook his head and chuckled. “Not as smart as you think you are, huh, bitch?” You could feel your jaw dislocate as his fist collided with your chin. You fell to the dirt floor of the barn and moaned as your hand grabbed at your jaw. You were disoriented, in pain, scared out of your mind. “You were so _cute_ , thinking you escaped. Dean tried to tell you...there’s no escaping me, bunny.” He leaned over you, flipping you over onto your back and looked down at you. “And your Sam isn’t coming for you, fatass. You are stuck with me. You aren’t going home and you aren’t gonna get saved.”

You whimpered as he pulled a strap of black leather out of his jacket pocket. You recognized it as a collar immediately and tried to scoot away from him, but he was too fast, wrapping the leather around your neck and yanking it too tight. You clawed at his wrist as you tried to get a breath, but it did nothing to deter him from choking you.

Hazel eyes looked down at you as your vision tunneled, a smirk on his thin pink lips. He seemed excited to watch you pass out...and part of you was thankful to embrace the darkness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your head was swimming as you came to. Your jaw was killing you, but so were your wrists and shoulders. Your eyes fluttered open and your heart fell to see King Sam’s bedroom library. You were back at the mansion...being held up by chains and cuffs, spread-eagle, in the entry to the library. The only grace you had was that he hadn’t stripped you down before stringing you up...and it felt like he’d wrapped your jaw in place.

“You know, I thought you’d be smart enough to listen to good advice,” Sam said, from behind you.

“You broke him,” you responded through forcibly clenched teeth. “His advish wash not reliable.”

“Oh. Are you...upset for him?” Sam asked, stepping around you to look in your eyes.

“You...I heard you. What you did to him...I’m dishgushted.”

“I wanted you to hear, you stupid whore,” he snapped, stepping closer to you and looking directly into your eyes. “I wanted you to know that you are in the exact same situation as he is. You, the fat, stupid, piece of shit wife of hunter, you’re in the exact same situation as one of the best hunters the world has ever seen...and if _he_ couldn’t get himself out of it, you have no chance.”

Your heart hurt almost as much as your head at that sentence. You were just a hunter’s wife...but you were a hunter's wife because you were strong and accommodating and smart. You were fat and you were in the same situation as someone who definitely should have been more likely to get out of it. But did that mean you should give up?

"You let me eshcape, did-in you?"

"The look on your face when you thought you were going home!" he exclaimed, laughing loudly. "God, it was fuckin' hilarious!"

You shook your head as much as possible. "Thish ish jusht...to give me hope and then yank it away?"

He shrugged, his lips pulling down in an incredulous upside down U before he laughed. "You were breaking too fast! I mean, it isn't as fun to break you when you give it up so easy!" He reached out and grabbed your collar, tugging you forward. "I wanted to see just how far you would make it before you let your guard down."

"All the way to Kanshash. You followed me all the way to-"

"Yeah,” he interrupted. “I watched you on the closed-circuit TV, followed you to the neighbors’ place...I own that house, too, by the way. Demons live there. Then I followed you, hitchhiking like you know that no serial killer is gonna give a fuck about some half-ton bitch like you, all the way to Kansas. That’s where your bunker is, huh?” You glared at him but you didn’t respond. “I have demons searching. They’ll find it.”

“You can’t get in, even if they do.”

He laughed and tugged at the collar again. “We’ll just have to see, won’t we? And while they search your quaint little hometown for your bunker, you and I are gonna have some fun.” He slid his hand up to your chin and pressed against your jaw, making you whimper as tears sprung up in your eyes. “It’s too bad you made me break your jaw. I could really go for a good face fuck. Might go see Dean.”

You didn’t correct him that your jaw was dislocated, not broken. “You do whatever you want...Master.”

“That’s right. I _am_ your master. You are mine now, bitch. This collar means more than those rings.” He nodded toward your numb left hand. “Actually…”

“No!” you shouted through clenched teeth as he reached up and twisted your bridal set off of your finger. “Pleash, don’t!”

He examined the rings for a minute before tucking them into his pocket. “Your husband will never find you. You don’t need these anymore.” He walked around behind you and slapped your ass as tears started rolling down your face and wetting the wrap around your head. “Now, you just hang there and think about what you’ve done...and I’m gonna go play with my other slave.”

All you could do was hang there.


	6. Double Team

**Summary** : A deep hopelessness takes Doc and she’s just not up to fighting anymore. King Sam takes advantage of that fact.

**Story Warnings:** dom/sub relationship, hair-pulling, fat-shaming, Other Sam being an asshole, pain play, humiliation, non-explicit wincest, demon blood drinking, mentions of torture, mentions of violence to reader, **18+! HERE BE SEX!! DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!,** double penetration, anal sex, unprotected sex, **noncon/dubcon** oral (male rec from male), 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your body hurt like never before. It felt like you were hanging for days, but you knew from the light moving outside the library windows that it was only a few hours. You hurt. Everything hurt. You could take physical pain, though. You excelled at taking pain. Physical pain was nothing compared to the pain in your heart.

Sir was never going to find you. How the hell could he? How could he even figure out which of the endless universes you ended up in? Even if he did figure it out, he could only get here with the help of Jack and that dreamwalker, Kaia...and Kaia didn’t want to help in the first place.

Sir was never going to be there and Master was the only one you had.

Energy drained from you as the hope fled. You were never going to escape. You were going to be used by Master for the rest of your life...until such time as he decided to kill you. You weren’t Doc anymore. You weren’t even Y/n. You were just...nothing. Not a single thing but a fucktoy for Master.

“Well, she looks like she’s learned her lesson.”

Sam’s voice should have made you cringe, but it didn’t. You were numb. You were nothing.

“Oh shit. Is she even still in there?” he asked, walking under your left arm and smiling as he looked into your mostly blank eyes. “Bunny, are you in there?”

“Yesh, Mashter,” you ground out.

He chuckled and reached out to run his hand down your arm before wrapping his fingers around your neck. “Damn, you look...perfect. You’re barely fuckin’ there. I yanked that hope away and you just left, huh?”

“Yesh, Mashter.”

"Well, then. Let's get you out of these chains and then we can see about fixing that jaw of yours." He started to release you as you looked at the books behind him.. "Is it broken? Or just dislocated, do ya think?" You didn't answer, too tired and hurt to respond to anything that didn't need a 'Yes, Master'. "I asked a question. You were a doctor, weren’t'cha? Did I break that shit or did I just dislocate it?"

"Dishlocated," you managed to say.

"Oh, good. Then it doesn't need to be healed!" You crumbled to the floor at his feet as soon as the second cuff was off your wrist. "Demon healing is a bitch. I only use it when I absolutely have to. Now...ya think you can set that or do you want your king to try?"

You nodded lethargically and tried to sit up. "I will."

He smirked as he grabbed your shirt and pulled you into a sitting position. “You’re a fat fuckin’ ragdoll now, ain’t’cha?” You didn’t disagree. “You need a mirror or something to fix that shit?” 

"It would help."

A large hand mirror was suddenly in his grasp and he held it up to you. You pulled the wrap off of your head and reached out, hooking your right hand around the left side of your jaw and your left hand on the right, placing your thumbs firmly over your back molars and curling your digits around the underside of your jaw. You let out a deep breath and inhaled another before using the grip to pull your jaw straight and push it back into place. You screamed against closed lips as you felt it pop back into alignment, then quickly rewrapped your jaw with the ACE bandage and dropped your hands to your lap.

Right back to being a ragdoll.

"Looks like you've learned how to be a good girl, didn't you, bunny?" Sam asked as he tossed the mirror behind him. It bounced off the bed and crashed to the floor. "I think I'm gonna reward this newfound hopeless cooperation with a bit of family bonding. Are you hungry, Y/n?"

Before you could open part your lips to say 'Yes, Master', Sam laughed. "Of course you are! Look at you! Come on, let's get Dean and we'll have dinner." He picked you up with two strong hands under your arms and placed you on your feet. "Well. _I'll_ have dinner. You can't open that mouth for a few days so none for you."

A pang of sadness went through you but you didn't say it. You didn't raise your eyes or your voice. You had to make things easy on yourself. You had to shut up and take it.

You followed Sam out of the room and stood in the hall with your eyes cast down as he waved at a demon to come get you. “Take her to the dining room and set her up with some wine...and a straw,” he said, amused. 

The demon grabbed your arm and guided you down the stairs. The table was twenty feet long but there were only four chairs. The demon forced you into the chair closest to the door and walked away to grab a bottle of wine and two wine glasses. “You took a beating, didn’t you?” the demon whispered as he poured red liquid into the glass. You didn’t respond, swaying a bit in your seat as the wine sloshed along the sides. “He could be worse, you know? When he first took over, he never would have let you live. He would have killed you back in Texas.”

“I wish he had,” you whispered back. You weren’t even sure you’d said it out loud. But the demon smiled in response.

“You don’t. If you wanted death, you would have him kill you.”

“The day’s young,” you answered.

He pulled a straw out of his jacket and set it in the glass, angling it toward your lips before he stepped back from the table. You didn’t drink. Master hadn’t given you permission to drink. So you sat there, hands folded in your lap as you stared at the remnants of wine clinging high up on the glass.

“Look at her, Dean! She’s such a good little toy!” Sam’s voice came from the doorway behind you and you had a slight urge to look but you didn’t. You kept your eyes on the wine. “Stand up. I want an intimate family dinner and these chairs are too far apart for that.” You stood and Sam grabbed the chair you were sitting in, pulling it closer to the end of the table where the empty wine glass sat. “Dean, move your chair, too.”

Dean moved one of the other chairs to the opposite side closer to the end and stood next to it, his eyes on the oak table top as Sam moved to the head of the table. You could see that Dean was wearing a black tank top and white linen pants. “Sit,” he demanded, and you and Dean sat in your chairs.

A demon appeared beside Sam and offered his wrist. You looked at the table top as he slashed the demon’s wrist and filled his own wine glass with blood. “Drink, bunny. That’s good wine.” You shook a little as you reached out and picked up your wine glass. You weren’t in the mood, but you pulled the straw between your lips and took a sip, holding back a grimace at the tang of tannins on your tongue. “If you don’t like yours, you could try _mine_ ,” Sam offered.

Dean’s eyes flicked to yours to see how you’d take the offer, but immediately he hid his interest in you. 

“Dean doesn’t like the taste, but it makes him hard as a rock,” Sam said, smirking.

Some fire in your chest picked up at the idea of Sam forcing Dean to drink demon blood. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t okay. It was horrible. It was just like Master to do it.

“What do you think, Dean? Should Y/n try the blood?” Sam asked, taking a drink of his own.

Dean’s eyes went wide. ‘No’ wasn’t a good answer. You aren’t supposed to tell the King ‘no’, but he surely didn’t want to throw you under the bus.

“Uh, I...I don’t…”

“I think he wants you to try it, bunny.”

“I like the wine. Thank you,” you whispered, taking a sip of your wine.

Sam chuckled and leaned over, taking the straw from your glass and slipping it into the blood. “I don’t remember asking you. Take a drink, Y/n.” His tone was hard. ‘No’ was not an answer. You were sneering before you even took the straw between your lips again. “Don’t even think about faking it. I know the effects of demon blood on humans. I’ll know.”

You closed your eyes and sucked hard on the end of the straw, pulling blood into your mouth and swallowing it down as fast as you could. The taste lingered, a copper and sulfur flavor that coated your mouth. You pushed the straw away with your tongue and picked up your wine glass. You wanted to wash the blood from your mouth as soon as possible. 

You recognized the feeling almost immediately, as your heart rate picked up and your breathing quickened. Your hands started shaking and you had to set the glass on the table for fear of dropping it. Your temperature raised with everything else. It was like an amphetamine. It was worse than that, though, amped up like an aphrodisiac. 

"Oh, shit," you whispered, setting your hands on the armrests of your chair and trying to hold on tight.

"How does it feel?" Sam asked.

"Like speed and Spanish Fly," you answered, honestly.

Your eyes found Dean's and held them, as pity took over your brother-in-law's expression. You could tell he recognized what you were feeling. He'd been forced into this feeling before. As it sizzled through your body, it felt...good. Your heart slowed down but your body stayed hot and the pain in your jaw and joints ebbed to something tolerable and pleasurable.

“How’s your jaw feel?” Sam asked, smirking.

“B-better, Master,” you whimpered.

“You think you could suck cock now?”

“R-runs the risk of dislocating again if I open my mouth too wide,” you answered, honestly. “That’s why the Barton Brace.” You gestured at the ACE bandage wrapped around your head.

“How long is that mouth gonna be out of commission?” Sam asked.

“Ideally, six weeks.”

“Six weeks! Damn.” Sam turned his attention back to Dean as demons walked in with food on platters. “Guess I’m gonna use your mouth for the next month and a half, huh? Only fair since I’m the one who broke that shit in the first place. She’s got other holes.”

You whimpered and curled your fingers around the wood tighter at his words. You barely noticed the food on the table in front of you and that was good because Sam was not going to let you eat it anyway.

He started eating fish and mashed potatoes as you closed your eyes. He hummed happily and licked his fingers noisily. Dean’s stomach growled loudly and Sam laughed, but neither you or Dean spoke until Sam reached out and pulled the cover off of a large latticed apple pie. Dean whimpered and stared as Sam slowly cut himself a piece of pie. It was its own form of torture because Sam knew Dean would never ask for a piece of his own.

“You want some, Dean?” Sam offered as he took a big bite of pie.

“Yes, sir,” Dean answered, but you could tell he knew it was worthless to hope. The very question was its own small torture.

Sam hummed and you opened your eyes as he cut a small piece of an apple slice and picked it up with his fork. He moved like he was going to offer it to his brother before diverting the fork to his own mouth and setting it on his tongue. He didn’t swallow as he set the fork down and beckoned to Dean with his left hand.

You could tell by the way Dean stood and shuffled toward Sam that he knew exactly what the King wanted from him. This was something Sam had done before and, if the color of Dean’s cheeks said anything, it was something from the humiliation bag of tricks.

You tried to close your eyes to avoid seeing it, but Sam snapped his fingers and Dean whimpered, “He wants you to watch,” and you had no choice in ignoring Sam’s wishes.

The King reached out, wrapping his large hand around the back of his brother’s neck, pulling him down and crashing their faces together in a passionate kiss. Their tongues pressed against each other and Dean moaned pathetically as you fought a wave of nausea at the sight. It was bad enough to imagine it, but to see it was so much worse.

You were just starting to lose the fight when Sam reached his free hand out and offered you the glass of blood. You knew not to turn him down, and the blood was less disgusting than watching the Winchesters make out. You drank down a gulp of blood and whimpered as new heat washed over you.

“She’s a good girl, isn’t she, D.?” Sam asked, smirking as he set the glass down. “She’s all outta hope. Knows she’s just as stuck as you are.” He smiled and patted Dean’s cheek. “This is perfect, a nice little family. King of Hell and his two best toys. What more could I ask for?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You okay, Doc?” Dean asked through the vent later that night. You didn’t answer. You felt horrible, exhausted, worn-out, sweaty, and a shameful part of you was horny beyond belief. Your collar felt like it was strangling you. “Doc? Come on. You gotta talk to me.”

“Um fine,” you bit out.

“I know the crash from demon blood, honey, and you ain’t fine.”

“Fine enough,” you answered. You were silent for a few minutes, your back pressed against the wall beside the vent, hugging your knees to your chest. “Has he ever done this before? Had...someone like me watching and-”

“No,” Dean answered, quickly. “He made Bobby watch him beat the fuck outta me a few times, but...all this...all the...the sex stuff didn’t start until after Bobby died.”

“I figured Bobby was the one across the hall,” you said, closing your eyes.

“No, that’s, uh, that’s Ruby. Sam didn’t like bein’ manipulated, so he keeps her around and alive, damn-near purified...just so he can hurt her more on the days when hurting me isn’t good enough.” You sniffled and swallowed down a whimper that wanted to escape your throat. “Hey, it’s not so bad, ya know? He’s not so bad.”

“My husband is a kind and loving hero. My king is a monster. He is that bad, Dean.”

“Yeah, well...he could be worse. Actually...if you let yourself enjoy it, Doc, it’s better.” You rolled your eyes behind closed lids. “I know you like some of what he does. He makes sure of that. Just focus on how good he makes you feel.”

“I’ll try,” you responded before climbing onto the bed to get some sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few days were spent naked, bruised, and in various states of distress. Master edged you for three days and never once praised you for keeping yourself from falling. He also encouraged blood down your throat.

You could hear him enter Dean’s room and you were ashamed of the relief you felt that he was going to play with his other toy instead. Karma hit you back for the selfish thought in the form of Master opening your door and shoving a naked Dean in. You averted your eyes from the elder Winchester immediately, trying to keep the vision of his body out of your brain.

“So, I was thinking...I’ve been giving so much extra attention to Piggy and I’ve been neglecting you, Dean, so...best of both worlds; we’re all gonna play together.”

Fear went through you. Touching and being touched by Master was bad enough, but at least he was Sam. Dean was like a brother to you. You couldn’t.

“I know what you’re thinking, you can’t play with Dean, right? But see, you belong to me, Y/n, and if I want to use my brother as a tool to own you, there’s nothing you can fucking do to stop me. Now, get on the bed and give me an edge.”

You did as Master commanded, climbing on the bed and spreading your legs to showcase as you rubbed at your clit. You couldn’t help but watch as Dean dropped to his knees without a word and opened his mouth, waiting patiently as Master pulled his cock out.

Dean was enthusiastic with his oral, taking Master in just as deep as you always did. You watched as he got hard from sucking his brother’s cock, rubbing yourself closer and closer to the edge. When Sam pulled away, he told Dean to undress him and made you stop rubbing.

“Now I’m gonna fuck the chubby bunny’s tight little asshole, which she didn’t even let her husband do, and you are gonna stuff yourself into her wet little cunt.” Your eyes went wide and you wanted to protest, but you kept it inside. “She’ll be so tight for both of us like that, don’t you think?”

Master smirked and pushed Dean toward the bed. “Don’t worry, Y/n. He’s just gonna lay there with his dick in you. He’s not allowed to move. Lay down, D.”

You whimpered as Dean laid himself down on your bed and Sam wrapped his hand Dean’s dick. You swallowed nervously and looked away. “Now, if you want me to use lube, you’re going to play nice, Y/n.”

The very idea of Master putting his huge cock in your virgin ass without lube seemed like worse torture than any you’d been subjected to thus far so you nodded. “I’m sorry, Master,” you whispered.

“Climb on,” Master demanded. “Just like when we were in the throne room.

You looked up at Dean’s face. This was your friend, your brother-in-law, someone you never even considered sexually. He licked his lips and gave a barely noticeable nod so you straddled him. Master guided Dean’s dick to your entrance and you both moaned as you sunk down on him.

“Dean hasn’t been inside a woman since 2007,” Master whispered in your ear.

“S-Sam, sir, can I-can I touch her?” Dean begged, his voice squeaky and strained.

“You can hold her ass open for me,” Master answered, as a bottle of lube appeared in his hand and he slathered it over his cock and your asshole.

Dean’s hands were apprehensive as he ran them softly up your thighs to rest on the globes of your ass, pulling the cheeks apart to give Sam better access. You looked into his eyes and saw shame, and care, and lust which probably went hand-in-hand with the shame.

It was just barely audible when he whispered, “I’m sorry.”

Dean’s fingers flexed against your flesh and you gasped as Master pushed two fingers into your asshole. Dean groaned as you clenched around him.

“Fuck, you’re tight, Y/n,” Master praised, working his fingers against your walls. “She tight on you, Dean?”

“Yes, sir. So tight and warm. I wanna move so bad.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m gonna move her for you.”

Sam replaced his fingers with his cockhead and you tensed, grabbing Dean’s shoulders and holding on as Master started pushing past the ring of muscle. Your whole body was shaking with pain. He was too big, it was too much, you felt like you were being sawed in half...and he kept pushing.

“It hurts!” you cried, dropping your head to bury your face in Dean’s chest. “Please stop!”

Master just laughed as he swiveled his hips to get more of his cock into you. You whimpered, letting tears out onto Dean’s skin as Sam started to give shallow thrusts. It hurt more than even the punch that dislocated your jaw...until it didn’t hurt so much. The cock pulsing against your pussy walls, the push and pull of Sam in your ass, the way Dean was massaging your asscheeks, and how you could feel how much he wanted to fuck you, the way Master put his hand on your lower back to hold you close to Dean as he fucked into you...it was overwhelming and _good_.

Your whimpers of pain turned to whines of pleasure and shame filled you as you felt your orgasm ramping up. Even worse, you felt Dean’s getting close too.

“Fuck,” he groaned and you looked up to see his eyes squeezed shut. “I can’t. I can’t. Please, Sam.”

Sam reached around you and wrapped his hand around Dean’s neck. “Big brother, all you have to do is ask.”

“Please, can I cum? She’s so fucking tight. Please. I can’t hold back. Please,” Dean begged.

“No! No, don’t!” you whimpered.

“She likes being filled with cum, Dean. Cum for me,” Master demanded and Dean’s breath caught in his chest as his cock twitched inside of you. Master fucked into you several more times before he came, biting into your shoulder to muffle a howl. “Good little toys,” he praised as he pulled out and leaned back to watch cum dripping out of your stretched asshole.

Dean ran his hands back down your thighs, apologizing with his eyes as yours filled up with tears again.

“Since you two are so close now...why don’t you keep her company, Dean? I’ve got business to attend to. Be good,” Sam said, picking up his clothes and walking out.

Dean hushed you as you started bawling into the crook of his neck.


	7. Sick and Numb

**Summary** : Y/n gets some bad news from Master.

**Story Warnings:** dom/sub relationship, fat-shaming, Other Sam being an asshole, mentions of demon blood drinking, mentions of torture, mentions of violence to reader, **18+! HERE BE SEX!! DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!,** unprotected sex, **noncon/dubcon,** pregnancy 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your head hurt. Your body was numb. You were stuck, hopeless, broken. Master kept you high and hungry and you were sure it was a matter of controlling you, but you were his ragdoll. You were going to stay his ragdoll.

You were exhausted, coming down from demon blood in your brother-in-law’s arms and you felt like you were going to die. “Really didn’t think I’d go out like this,” you whispered.

“You’re not going out, Doc. Don’t talk like that,” Dean whispered back.

“Dean. Don’t lie to me. I’m a doctor. I know what death looks like.”

“So do I, okay? And I know what it feels like. This...this isn’t that. You’re not dying.” He sighed and ran his hand up your arm. “You just wish you were. You’ll get past that. I did.”

You chuckled and sniffled. “If I die here...which Heaven do you think I’ll go to?”

Dean seemed to think for a minute before shrugging. “Don’t think about that, Doc. You’re not dyin’ here.”

“Don’t promise things you can’t manage, Dean,” Sam said, walking into your room. You immediately sat up, Dean doing the same, and you both dropped your eyes to your laps. Sam smirked as he approached the bed. “Go to your room, D. I want Bunny to myself today.” Dean nodded and slipped off of the bed. “Crawl,” Master demanded and Dean dropped to hands and knees without a word.

Master turned his attention to you, the door closing behind Dean without anyone touching it. “Now, how are you feeling?” he asked, and you were shocked at how he sounded so much like Sir...but why would he even be asking. It wasn’t like he cared. “Nauseated, sweaty, tired, emotional?”

“Yes, Master. Th-the withdrawal is-” you started but he reached out and grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“No, see, I know withdrawal. This is different. This is special.” He slipped his hand down to circle your neck, pressing your collar in to bite at your skin. “I’ll have to start feeding you.” You looked up at him, confused, but he didn’t elaborate on his sudden altruism after two months of torturing and starving you. “You’ll throw up a lot of it, but you need the nutrients. Vitamins, too. We’ll get you what you need. I’m sure you know how to care for that thing better than your average fatass.”

“Master, what are you-”

The smirk turned up higher and he tapped his fingers against your mostly-healed jaw. “You’re not going through withdrawals, you stupid bitch. You’re fucking pregnant.” Your heart started pounding at the idea. You were trying to figure out when you had your last period when he laughed. “Dean and I’ve been filling you up with cum for weeks. You really thought you’d be lucky enough _not_ to get knocked up?”

The thought that it might be Dean’s, that it might be your brother’s baby and not even a version of your husband’s, sent you into a state of shock. Master kept a smirk on his lips as he grabbed your hip and flipped you onto your front. It took no effort for him to get you onto your hands and knees. “Look at it this way, Miss Piggy, at least you’re gonna get to eat more than just cum now. I know how important that is to you.”

You didn’t say a word or make a sound as he slapped your ass and grabbed you roughly. You didn’t say a word as he grabbed your hips and manhandled you into place. If you were moaning as he put his hands on your shoulders and fed his cock into your cunt, you were completely unaware of it. You were just numb as he fucked you like a bitch. His hands grabbed the collar around your neck as he thrust into you. 

You could hear him in your ear as his cock slicked in and out of you, his hips crashing into your ass over and over. He was commenting on you bringing a new generation of Winchesters to the world, how he was finally going to have a family, how you were going to give him a prince or princess. None of his words, none of his actions were getting through. You were numb.

He chuckled as you collapsed to your bed, more worn and broken than you were when you were in Dean’s arms an hour before. “I’ll have some food brought up for you. Spinach or kale?” he asked, not waiting for your response before he walked out of the room and shut the door.

You barely ate when the salad showed up with a glass of milk and a Flintstone vitamin on a platter. You couldn’t imagine it staying in your stomach.

“Doc, you gotta eat,” Dean begged as you stared at the plate. You weren’t sure when he’d been let back into your room. “You gotta keep going. You gotta eat for that-”

“Why?” you asked, swallowing. You couldn’t look at him. You couldn’t think anything except ‘Why?’. Why you? Why would God let this happen to you? Why should you stay alive when alive is just torture?

“Because your Sam is gonna find you and if you don’t hang on, then-”

“No.” You shook your head. “He won’t...and if he did...I wouldn’t want him to. After everything...everything Master’s done and made you do and me…” You shook your head. “Even if my...no.”

“Come on, Doc, don’t talk like that,” Dean begged, leaning forward to try to catch your eyes. “Your Sam, your _Sir_ , he wouldn’t care. He’d...he loves you and he wouldn’t want you to starve yourself over…” He licked his lips and reached out to wrap you in a hug. “Please. You’re the only thing I’ve got anymore, Doc. Please.”

You melted into the embrace. Dean was the only thing you had anymore, either. He was the only one who touched you with kindness. You could stay alive for him. You couldn’t let him be alone again.

You reached out and grabbed the glass of milk. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Alarms went off in the deep of the mansion. You ignored them. The power went out. You ignored it. Dean held you to his chest and said, “It’s fine. Resistance attack every few years. It’ll be okay.” You heard shouting down the hall. You ignored it. Your door burst open and Sam entered, demon-killing blade in hand. 

“Doc! Oh, thank God I found you!”

You groaned and turned further into Dean’s chest. “Not again,” you whispered.

“Dean?” Sam asked, seemingly completely confused by your proximity to his brother. “What the hell? Why are you naked?” There seemed to be rage in his tone that made you shift and look at him closely. “Doc, why are you naked with Dean?”

You sat up, but Dean grabbed your biceps and held you. “This your Sam?” he whispered next to your ear.

You could only shake your head in confusion. You had no idea. Master had tricked you before. 

“Doc! What are you doing? Let’s go!” Sam demanded, adjusting his grip on the knife.

“You’re tricking me again,” you accused.

“Tricking you? Doc, you’re...are you…” Sam sighed and ran his hand over his face and through his hair. “How can I prove I’m not the other one? How can I prove that I’m your husband?”

You were lost for words. You were lost for ideas. You couldn’t think. You couldn’t hope. 

“Where’s your Dean?” Dean asked from behind you. “And where’s _my_ Sam?”

“My Dean set up a distraction by the outdoor pool and he’s on his way up now. The king was in the throne room last I saw. Doc, come on!”

“I can’t-” you squeaked out. “I can’t know you’re my you!”

“Y/n, please!” Sam begged, stepping closer.

“Sammy, what’s takin’ so long? Let’s get--why are they naked?” Dean’s voice said from behind Sam. You gasped as he stepped around Sam. That was Dean. That was your brother-in-law. Overwhelmed tears filled your eyes as he pulled his jacket off and tossed it at his alternate self. “Tie that around your waist, man. I know we’ve got the goods, but we don’t need to show ‘em off.”

Sam took Dean’s lead and pulled his jacket off to wrap it around you as the broken Dean covered himself. “Come on, Y/n. Let’s go home.”

“Sam, I-” you started as Sir wrapped an arm around you.

“We can talk about it all later, Doc. Let’s get-”

“We have to take him!” you exclaimed, turning back to look at the broken Dean. 

“We...we can’t take him with us, Y/n,” Original Dean said. “He doesn’t belong-”

“He can’t stay here! You don’t know what Master’s done to him! You don’t understand! He doesn’t have-”

“Doc, it’s okay. I can hand-” the other Dean started to argue but you shook your head, violently. The very idea of leaving Dean behind, alone and broken, was too much for you to bear.

“No!” you shrieked. “No! He can’t _stay_! He has no one! He has nothing! We have to take him with us. You don’t know what Master’s done to him!” you repeated.

“We can’t have two Deans, Doc,” Sam started to say but you shook your head.

“Yes, yes, we can and we have to! We cannot leave him here!” you shouted.

“Okay,” Original Dean said, softly. “Okay, we’ll take him. Me. We’ll take him with us, but we gotta get the fuck outta here, okay, before the-the King gets up with us, okay?”

You reached out and grabbed Other Dean’s hand. “Where’s the tear?” you asked. Sam looked a bit distressed about the fact that you were bringing Other Dean, but he pushed past it and started to guide you out of the house.

“Woodline. Let’s go.”

You rushed after the Original Winchesters as they fought their way out of the mansion. The tear in space was shimmering and beautiful, a beacon calling to you as you ran for the woodline, demons trying to stop you on the way.

“You found her. Good,” Cas’ voice gave you an extra ounce of pep as he stepped out of the shadows. He looked confused by the extra Dean but he didn’t question it as you and Other Dean ran into the tear.

You were never so happy to see the Bunker. You were never so happy to be home. You gasped as you fell to your knees at the witch, Rowena’s, feet. She moved to pick you up as a man you didn’t recognize watched her.

Other Dean looked around in shock. “It’s real. This is...your bunker’s real?” he whispered.

“Oh, bucko. You’re gonna have some adjusting to do, aren’t you?” the new face said, causing Other Dean’s eyebrows to come together.

“You look like...are you the _Trickster_?” he asked.

“Gabriel?” you asked, your eyebrows coming together, too. “I thought you were dead.”

“Lot’s happened since you been gone, Doc,” Original Dean said as he and Sam walked through the tear. “But we can fill you in after we get some clothes on you and, uh, me.” Dean looked over at his other self and sighed. “You’re a lot skinnier than me, but we got the same inseam, so I’m sure you can fit in my jeans if I find you a belt. Come on, man.”

The Deans shuffled out of the library as Gabriel and Rowena examined you. "Samuel, I think it might be best fer a woman's touch fer now. Why don't yew go make yer wife a pot of tea an' I'll get her dressed in somethin' warm?" Rowena offered you her hand and a smile. "Come on, dear. I won’t bite."

You nodded and took her hand, not looking at Sam as you were led out of the library toward your room. "Quite a lot has happened to yew, hasn't it?" she asked as you sat on the edge of you and Sam's bed and she started going through dresser drawers. "Yew were gone fer months. Samuel was crazy tryin' to figure out where yew ended up."

You looked down at your lap, wondering if they should have just left you behind. Rowena turned and presented you with a bundle of clothes and smiled at you. "I'm gonna go check on yore tea...and you can take that off," she said, gesturing at her neck to remind you of your collar.

You dressed quickly, pulling the collar off as soon as Rowena closed the door. You pulled on shoes and grabbed a thick hoodie from the dresser. You needed as many layers as possible. You needed to feel safe. You cracked the door when you heard raised voices in the kitchen, straining to hear what was being said.

"Because she's been traumatized, Samuel! Cannae yew see that?! She was wearing a dog collar, she's lost almost three stone since I saw her last an' she's got a haunted look an'-"

"Sam, you don’t even want to know what happened to her over there," Gabriel filled in. "Her and that other Dean? They were put through it, okay? I have done some terrible things to some people who totally deserved it, but what that other you did? That's gonna be a problem."

"I don't even know what he did, so how can I help?" Sam snapped.

"You _can’t_. This isn't something that's gonna be fixed. And, unfortunately, you can't know what happened until one of them feels safe enough to open up about it," Gabriel answered. For a pagan wannabe trickster asshole, Gabriel actually had a bit of celestial wisdom about him.

"You obviously know something about what happened, Gabe," Dean growled.

"Yeah...and I'm not tellin'. Those two, they've earned their privacy. They've earned a lifetime of being left alone with a mountain of pie and cake and beautiful women to feed them by hand. You think you've been handed a few short sticks, you haven't even dreamed the shit Sam put them through so shove it, boys."

"Fine, moving on. They're obviously not gonna be travel-ready anytime soon," Dean said. "What do we do with them while we go portal-hopping to save Mom and Jack?"

"Leave 'em," Sam said, almost harshly. "They'll be safe here and they can recuperate _together_ while _we_ go to Apocalypse World."

They seemed almost upset about your damage. Unfortunately, you saw that coming. They should have left you.

You slipped out of your room and down the hall to Dean's bedroom, where Other Dean was sitting on the floor next to the bed with a lap full of pictures. "When you told me Mom was alive over here...I really thought you were fuckin' with me." He held up a picture of Dean, Mary, and Sam that was taken by you a few days after she came back from the dead. "Shit...I just...don't know how to...how to take that."

You slid to the floor next to him and leaned your head against his shoulder. "Everything I told you about this world is true. Right down to the angels that helped save us."

"Angels.” He nodded, bouncing his head back and forth, and let out a little scoff. “Also a shocker...and you called the Trickster 'Gabriel'...that’s _Gabriel_ \--Gabriel, the Archangel?" You nodded. "Shit. That’s wild, Doc. I'm...I'm not gonna lie. Little overwhelmed."

"You'll get used to it," you promised.

Other Dean pressed his lips to your hairline and leaned his head against yours. "Your husband’s not gonna like how close you are with me," he whispered, picking up a picture of you, Sam, and Dean from his lap.

That was true. You knew how true it was. You could hear how much Sir didn’t understand the connection between you and Other Dean, and you could see it in his eyes back at the mansion. "My husband...he can't understand what...he can't know what...I just…"

"Thank you for saving me," he said suddenly. "You didn't have to do that. You coulda left me. You _should_ have left-"

"I couldn't. Not after everything."

"Everything he made me do to you, Doc...you shoulda left me behind."

You sat up and looked into his eyes. "You were the only source of goodness in that universe to me, Dean. What Sam did to us...we're never going to get past. Having someone-someone who went through the same thing...it might help us. I couldn't leave you...knowing what I was leaving you to deal with."

"You're a hero too, ya know? Kept acting like you were just a hero's wife, but-" He wrapped an arm around you and sighed into your hair. "-you're a hero, too."

Your cheeks heated up and you held him close. “We should go get a pizza...and a few pies...and stuff for burgers.”

He chuckled and squeezed your shoulders. “Honestly, I kinda wanna sleep for a week. This is the first time I’ve felt safe in years. The, uh, other me said he’s gonna find me an empty room.”

“We’re gonna have to find something to call you guys to distinguish which Dean’s which.”

“I’ll be Dean 1 and he can be Dean 2,” Other Dean said, chuckling slightly.

“Why do you get to be Dean 1?” Original Dean’s voice came from the doorway.

“Why _not_?” Other Dean responded.

“How about I’ll be Dean 1 and you can be Dean A?” Original Dean offered, walking in.

“That’s stupid,” you said, looking between them. The difference in their faces was stark. Other Dean was emaciated and scarred slightly, just like you knew his body was. “Why don’t one of you just go by your middle name?”

“ _No_!” they both responded, vehemently.

“Why not?”

They looked at each other and sighed heavily. 

“Mom gave us our first names, but Dad gave us our middle names...and they’re horrible. That’s why no one knows our middle names,” Original Dean answered.

“Think about it. You know your husband’s middle name?” Other Dean asked.

You blinked at him a few times. “How have I never thought about that?”

“Because Sam’s middle name is ‘Fidelis’ and he got the _better_ middle name,” Original Dean answers.

“Oh, shut up, _Patton_. At least yours is an actual name,” Sam’s voice coming through from the hall made you cringe before you could stop yourself. You could tell that the motion wasn’t lost on either Dean as you looked at your lap to avoid Sam’s eyes. “Um...we were gonna buy a few pizzas. Are you guys hungry?”

“Yeah, uh...pepperoni would be awesome,” Other Dean said, before jostling you with his shoulder. “What about you, Doc? You gotta be hungry, right?”

“Yeah. Pizza sounds great, Pat,” you answered.

“Oh, hell no,” both Deans said simultaneously before rambling off, “No ‘Pat’, no ‘Patton’, no ‘Patty’.”

“We’ll figure out something to call him that’s not Dean A but until then, no middle name,” Original Dean said before offering, “You want pineapple?” 

You shook your head. The thought of sweet acid pineapple turning your stomach. “No. Pepperoni sounds perfect.”

Original Dean sighed as Sam gave you a sad look that you barely noticed. Your mind was stuck in the other world when it came to Sam. You knew you’d have to learn to separate Master from Sir, but right now? In that moment, you couldn’t...and the thought of explaining to your husband what was growing inside of you was something else you couldn’t think about. You couldn’t.


	8. Doc and Solo

**Summary** : Y/n is having trouble being back at the Bunker. She doesn’t know how to be okay, as much as she wants to be.

**Story Warnings:** dom/sub relationship, mentions of demon blood drinking, mentions of torture, mentions of violence to reader, mentions of noncon, pregnancy...no sex, just arousal

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You picked at your pizza, it was greasy and your morning sickness was kicking just thinking about food, but the Deans both devoured their slices and went for more. Sam kept staring at you across the map table, but you couldn’t look at him. Your heart hurt every time you caught sight of his wedding ring, shiny on his left hand. You couldn’t help but think of the ones that used to reside on your finger. Your rings were stuck with Master in the other world...where you and the baby growing in you should have been left.

Other Dean was laughing with Original Dean and Gabriel and you wondered how the Winchesters got so good at denying their damage. Was it something John taught them? You couldn’t push it down like they did. You couldn’t fake being okay. After what happened in the other world, you were sure you couldn’t deal. You were sure you’d never be okay again and you couldn’t fake it like they did.

“Hey, Doc, you want me to grab you somethin’ else?” Other Dean asked when he noticed your nibbled-on slice of pizza. Everyone’s eyes turned to you.

“We, uh, we got all kinds of junk in the kitchen. Sam went shopping yes-” Original Dean started, but you just shook your head, sliding your paper plate toward Other Dean.

“I’m just not all that hungry. Thanks, though. I’m, uh, gonna go try to get some sleep.” You stood and started shuffling out of the room. You just made it into the hallway heading toward the extra bedrooms when Sam caught up with you. He was aware enough to stop himself from grabbing you but his sudden appearance in the hallway made your heart pound.

“Doc, please, talk to me,” he begged. “I can’t stand seeing you like this and not knowing why.”

Your lips became a tight line as you closed your eyes. You couldn’t look at him. “Please, don’t...your voice, Sam, is...it’s _his_ voice. It’s your voice too and I’m sure one day I’ll be able to hear it without hearing him but...Sam, I’m sorry.”

“What did he do?” His voice was a whisper, like that would hurt you less, but you couldn’t hear it.

You shook your head, eyes still closed as tears filled up behind your eyelids. “I broke. I broke, Sam...and I’m sorry, but I’m not gonna unbreak.”

“You don’t need to unbreak,” Sam said, eyes filling with tears. “Doc, just...let me help.”

You hugged yourself, arms tight around your chest as you shook your head. “I’m not like you. I’m not like you and Dean and I can’t just push it down. I can’t ignore the Hell I went through. I can’t ignore what was done to me and what I…” You squeezed your eyes shut tighter as your throat closed around your words. “I can’t. I just can’t. I’m sorry. Please, just leave me alone. Good luck finding Mary an-and Jack, but I can’t talk to you, yet. I can’t. I’m sorry.”

You could feel his eyes on you for a few moments before he sighed and you could hear his boots tap against the tile as he walked away. You let your eyes open after a moment and blinked away your tears before running off as fast as you could manage toward the empty rooms.

You were a little ashamed that you were waiting for the moment when the Original Winchesters and the Angels would leave to go save Mary. It would just be you and Other Dean and Rowena and you’d be able to breathe better. You could already feel it.

You curled up in one of the extra beds and tucked yourself into a ball.

"Look, uh, I know me well enough to know you’re not gonna talk about it, but uh," Dean's voice in the hallway kept you from falling asleep. "For the sake of Doc's mental health, we kinda need to have at least _some_ idea of what King Sam did. Gotta know what we're working against."

"Com'on, man, you have to have _some_ idea of what he did," Other Dean responded. "We're not as stupid as we look. You saw how he kept us: naked, hungry, weak. Hell, Doc had a collar on, Dean. You know you've stumbled upon videos online with people lookin' just like we looked when you walked into her room. You got an inkling of what he did and you're just tryin' to find out if he extended the same treatment to his dear big brother."

There was a long silence. "Well, _you_ weren't wearing a collar. It’s a valid question."

Other Dean chuckled, bitterly. “Well-trained dogs don’t need a collar. This one empty?” Light from the hallway filtered in and flooded over your face. “Looks almost peaceful here. Never looked that soft on the other side. I’ll take the next one.”

“Hey.” The door squeaked as it swung shut. “That’s my brother’s wife...and they’re gonna get past this.”

“Sure,” Other Dean responded, shortly.

“I can _see_ that look, man. I can see your sparkle.”

“My _sparkle_?”

“She’s not yours. Am I clear?”

“Crystal. Can I get a bunk now?”

You made yourself fall asleep, but the door squeaking hours later woke you. You didn’t move. You could smell that it was Sam. His sweat had a unique scent that you were more than a little familiar with. “I wish you’d talk to me, Doc,” he whispered, just barely audible. “I’m trying to be understanding. I missed you so much. Dean, he thinks...why can’t you tell me what happened?” He sighed, softly. “I _know_ what happened, Y/n. I know he hurt you. I wish I could have gotten there before he did, but...he hurt you and he hurt...he hurt Dean and I know the darkness...I know all the things inside me that I’ve been fighting my whole life and I know he just let them out on you and Dean. I know…”

He cleared his throat, quietly. “I know you’re strong enough to get well again...and I could help if you’d let me. I’m not him. I’ve never hurt you more than you wanted. Please, remember that while I’m gone. Please, Doc.”

The door squeaked as he left and you pulled your knees up into your chest as you let tears out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The squeaky hinge woke you again but it was followed by the smell of bacon and coffee. “Brought you breakfast,” Dean said. It took a minute of waking up to recognize the shorter hair and fuller face. Original Dean. You really needed to think of something to call them.

You cleared your throat and sat up, wiping at your eyes as he set a plate of diner-perfect over medium eggs, bacon, and toast on your lap, setting a mug of coffee on the side table. ‘Caffeine is bad for babies’ went through your head, but you stifled it. “Thank you, Dean.”

He nodded before taking a seat on the edge of your bed. His tongue played with his bottom lip for a few moments before he turned to you. “So, you and the other me, you seem pretty close. You were, uh, lookin’ pretty intimate yesterday...naked and, uh, very... _together_ -looking.”

You picked up a rasher of bacon and avoided the green eyes you knew so well as you nibbled on it. “We went through...What we went through…” You shook your head and tried a different approach. “He got me through it. He was the only scrap of goodness in that mansion. We needed each other. I don’t know what else to tell you.”

“And now that you’re safe?” he asked quietly.

“Relationships forged in the fire of adversity are strong as steel,” you answered, before looking up at him. “Like, you and...and Benny, right?”

Dean looked off into the space above the headboard. “Yeah, well...came down to it, my relationship with Benny wasn’t as strong as my relationship with Sam, so...if it came down to it-”

“Don’t ask,” you interrupted, focusing on the plate on your lap. “Because you wouldn’t like the answer I have right now.”

“Doc, come-”

“I can’t even look at my husband right now, Dean,” you interrupted. “I can’t hear his voice, the voice that used to soothe me and fill me with love, without hearing the monster that held me for the last five months. Right now, I _need_ Dean. So, don’t make me choose. Not right now.”

Dean nodded, seeming to understand your position, and licked his bottom lip between his teeth. “All right. I get it. Eat up.” He reached out and patted your shoulder before standing and walking out of the room.

You made sure to eat it all.

You hadn’t decided what to do about the baby, there were options here that you didn’t have locked up in the mansion but you weren’t sure you could go through with the one that screamed at your mind. Either way, you knew that you needed the nutrients, even if he or she might not.

You ventured out to have a shower, then padded toward the library in clothes that were much too big. Baggy clothes felt good, though, safe. Completely not sexy. Not something a ragdoll would wear.

“Oh, yew don’t have to worry about them. I’ll be here to keep an eye...and I donae think they’ll be leavin’ the Bunker, do yew?” Rowena’s voice chirped.

"I'm just worried about leaving her," Sam said and you cringed but pushed past it to focus on the concern in his voice. Sir was in there. Sir was upset and worried for you. You needed to focus on that.

"Unfortunately, Sam, that's not going away now, is it? But our window to save your mom _is_ going away, okay? We need to get going,” Gabriel responded. “Those two can handle a couple days in the Bunker with the witch. Let’s get this going.”

“You should go,” you spoke up, flinching and feeling uncomfortable as every set of eyes in the room turned to you. You looked at the top of the closest table. “The other Dean and I will be okay. You gotta save Mary. You should have saved her first.”

“Why would you say that?” Sam snapped and you flinched again, hating yourself for the reaction. When he spoke again, he made his voice soft. “Y/n, you’re my wife. Of _course_ , we saved you first.”

“Now’s not really the time, Sam,” Gabriel said, grabbing Sam’s shoulder and squeezing gently. “We really gotta go.”

“Damn it, Gabe, just let him try to-” Dean started but you shook your head.

“You should go,” you said, still not looking at the group. “We’ll be okay. Go get Mary and Jack. Bring them home safe.” You turned and headed for the bedroom you claimed.

“Y/n! Lass! Wait a wee minute,” Rowena said, her heels clicking as she followed you. She sighed when she caught up with you and looked up into your eyes. “I’ve lived a few centuries, ya know. I remember a world where women were little more’n a decoration on their husband’s hearth. Samuel loves you. I know yer havin’ a rough time of it but yew will be able to remember that eventually, lass.”

“I know he does. He’s not the problem. _I’m_ the problem. Mas-” You shut your eyes and shook your head, trying to get that word out of your brain. “The _other_ Sam, he’s the problem. I’m trying. Maybe one day I’ll get over it...but I know Sam loves me.”

“It’s a tricky thing, I know. I hope you can get back to who you were.” She patted your hand and turned back to walk down the hallway.

You slipped into the room you claimed as yours and took a seat on the edge of the bed. You were going to have to figure out a way. You were going to have to be a damn Winchester and push it down, be you again somehow. You just...didn’t much feel like Doc Winchester anymore. You felt like...ragdoll, fucktoy, Piggy, bunny, bitch.

Your whole body cringed at the memory of Sam’s voice in your ear calling you all those nasty names.

“So, they just did a freaky spell and there’s a tear in reality in the Library again,” Dean said, stepping into the doorway and leaning against the frame. “Totally not disconcerting at all.” He shrugged and smirked. “But we got the place to ourselves, with the exception of the little Irish redhead. I’m thinkin’ Star Wars, ‘cause I haven’t seen it in a decade or so...some popcorn and I raided Dean 1’s room and found licorice and Snickers so we are set for snacks.”

“Scottish,” you said, shaking your head but smiling a little.

“What?”

“Rowena. She’s Scottish,” you corrected.

“Oh. Okay? Same island, right?”

You laughed and shook your head again. Only Dean could make you laugh right now. “No, it’s not. Close, but no.” You stood and looked up at him. “As long as you don’t call her British, I think you won’t find yourself hexed. There’s a TV with a built-in Blu-ray player in Sam’s room. Grab Star Wars out of Dean’s room and we’ll watch together.”

“So, Blu-ray took off, huh? Isn’t it just the same as DVD?”

“Better quality picture, more storage, they fit more extras on Blu-ray. DVD is still a thing, though. Let’s go.”

“Prequels or originals?” he asked as he followed you out of your room.

“There’s also sequels now.”

“No shit, really?” he asked, eyes lighting up a bit.

You turned to him in the hall and smiled. “I like the idea of hope. Grab Episode IV.”

“Yes, ma’am. Meet you in Sammy’s room.”

You were looking around for the remote when your eyes fell on the box of toys under the bed. You could almost _see_ the floggers and ropes and paddles and BDSM tape. Master hadn’t needed any of that to control you. You kicked the box hard, wincing in pain as you grabbed the remote from the side table next to the alarm clock.

“All right! A New Hope, licorice, popcorn, and fun-size Snickers!” Dean announced as he walked in with his arms full and kicked the door closed. You smiled as you took the movie case out from under his arm.

You settled back on the bed and Dean dropped all of the snacks at the foot and slid back to lean against the headboard as you started the movie. Dean pulled open a few fun size candies and offered you a couple of your own, which you took, an appetite finding you in Dean’s presence. He ran his fingers through his hair and you smiled.

“You need a haircut, Han. Startin' to look like Luke.”

“It’s only been, like, six months since last time it was buzzed. It’s not _that_ bad, is it?” he asked, sitting up a little straighter before he turned his head and smirked. “I like that. Han Solo _is_ the best character in the series.”

“You like Han Solo, huh? That’s totally not cliche, tough-guy, scoundrel of you.” You grabbed a small handful of popcorn and offered some to him. “I like that, too. We’ll call you ‘Han’. Other Dean and Dean A are out. You’re Han Solo, now.”

“You can call me ‘Solo’,” he said with a wink as he took some of the popcorn from your hand. “Now, shut up. You’re makin’ me miss Obi-Wan.”

You dropped your head back and focused on the screen. Solo kept munching on snacks and you slowly found yourself leaning closer to him. He was a source of comfort. The only one you really had at that moment.

You were lying flat next to each other by the time the credits rolled, eyelids heavy and eyes completely unfocused. Solo turned onto his side, rubbing his hand over his stomach. “I think I ate too much popcorn.”

“I think it’s the entire bag of licorice that’s weighing your stomach down, Solo.”

He chuckled and nodded. “Maybe. But, come on...you know how long it’s been since I had candy?”

“Yeah, I know,” you whispered. Sam gave the bare minimum and the rare treat had to be earned through humiliation. “You gotta go slow on that stuff, though. If you go overboard on the candy and carbs, you’re gonna kill yourself.”

“I can think of worse ways to die.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be much of a doctor if I let you die of something completely avoidable. So, slow down on the carbs, calories, and useless sugars, okay? Doctor’s orders,” you demanded softly.

“Yes, ma’am,” he responded, quietly. “How you feelin’, Doc?”

“Like I’m not me, but…” You shrugged. “Nothing I can do about that right now.”

He licked his lips and leaned closer. “Close your eyes,” he whispered.

“Why?” you asked.

“Just trust me, Y/n.” You gasped a little at him using your first name and swallowed as you let your eyes fall closed.

You twitched when his fingertip grazed your forehead, just barely-there pressure. His featherlight touch drifted across the skin of your face, leaving a tingling trail of warmth in its wake. Two of his fingertips traveled across your face: across your cheek, over the bridge of your nose, across your eyebrows, along your jawline, over your bottom lip and across the top. As his fingers gently swooshed across your eyelids, you gasped again. It was such a simple sensation, such a simple touch, but it sent chills through you.

"What are you doing?" you whispered.

"Trying to help you feel like you again." His breath against your ear made you shiver and your pussy clenched around nothing. You wanted to feel shame for it, but you didn’t let yourself. "I'm trying to take some of the hard, angry touches that made you doubt yourself and replace them with this."

"Oh!" you sighed out.

"I'd touch you everywhere he hurt you if you'd let me."

You just barely held in the whine that wanted to escape you. There was something so erotic in the way he was barely touching you. After months of being forced to touch, both him and Master, and having hard caresses mar your body, it was like…

"Aftercare," you whispered latching onto his wrist and opening your eyes. His lips pursed with confusion as you sat up. "The cuddles, the softness, how you always told me everything was gonna be okay. Master didn't do aftercare, but you did."

"Sam didn’t do _any_ kinda care,” he dismissed. “Lay down, lemme finish."

"Dean." He raised an eyebrow that told you he was not playing so you sighed. "Fine. But...I'm gonna do the same to you." He looked like he was going to argue for a moment, but you set a severe look on him. “You need aftercare a lot more than me. After Hell and more than half a decade with Master at the mansion and-”

“Okay, okay. You can take care of me, too,” he whispered, his breath hitching a bit on ‘care’.

You settled back into the bed, head on the pillow and eyes closed. He settled back against your side with his head propped up on his fist and resumed his featherlight touches across your face. It shouldn’t have turned you on, it really shouldn’t, but the soft, tickling sensation was making you want to squirm from the slowly-building heat between your thighs.

After everything that you were forced into, nothing should ever turn you on again, but definitely not your brother barely touching your eyelids and lips.

“Your turn,” you breathed out, sitting up and discreetly rubbing your thighs together.

“You sure?” he asked as you took a deep breath. “You don’t gotta-”

“Solo, lay down. Let me take care of you,” you said, turning to press his shoulder to get him to lay flat on his back. “You deserve a bit of nice, too.”

“You’ve _been_ nice, Doc. You were the only one who was nice to me in...fuck, five hundred years,” he whispered, looking up at you.

“Well, let me be nice to you now.” He bit his bottom lip and leaned back, sighing heavily, watching you as you leaned over him. “Close your eyes, silly.”

“But I wanna see you,” he whispered.

“Don’t think it’ll work as good if you can see what I’m doing,” you whispered back with a smile.

He took a deep breath and you started to gingerly touch his face. You showed special attention to the scars on his cheek and eyebrows, fluttering across the soft skin of his eyelids and down to his plush lips. You wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. You hadn’t been kissed in forever.

You moved your fingers, forcing your focus from his plump, chapped lips to his stubbled chin, his jawline. His sideburns a little longer than they really should be. Every freckle on his face. The look of relaxation that took him with your movements made you smile. He was soft here, too. He was safe here.

“How’s that feel?” you whispered.

“Feels nice,” he answered, softly, his eyelids fluttering a bit.

“You know...I wish I could take it all away. You deserve all the good, Dean. I wish I could make you forget what he did to you.”

His eyes opened and he reached up to take your hand. “You are. Every time you look at me, you make me forget.”

You could see what Dean was saying about ‘sparkle’ when Solo looked into your eyes. There was so much doubt in those emerald eyes, but it was overshadowed by the shine of fondness in them. He was sparkling for you.

“Let’s put on another movie,” you suggested, looking away from him.

He cleared his throat and nodded, standing and shaking his leg to allow his pants to slide down his body a little. “I’ll be right back with Episode V.”

You chewed on your thumbnail as he left the room. You sighed heavily and ran your hands down your face. “It’s okay. It’s just comfort. We’re not doing anything wrong. It’s just comfort,” you assured yourself.

Your mind argued back in Sam's voice. _It might be just comfort if he were Dean but he's not just Dean. He's Solo, your sex slave buddy, who has cum inside you so many times at Master’s behest that you don’t even know if you’re carrying his baby or not. It’s not just comfort when you know what his cock feels like._

You squeezed your eyes shut and took a deep breath. That was different, you argued with the voice in your head. That was Master. Master made that happen. He never made the cuddling happen, or the caring. He made Dean lick your clit until you cried and he made you take loads upon loads of Dean's cum, but he didn’t force your relationship.

That came from hours of crying in his arms and hours of staring at the ceiling as you told him all about the world you left behind. It came from telling him stories of your Sam and Dean's relationship and all the people you'd befriended because of your husband, the charming and handsome hero. It came from him telling you about the dreams he had, the regrets and things he wished he could change, the people he wished he could have saved.

Solo was comfortable with you and vice versa. Your relationship wasn't built on sex, but in spite of it. Just because you were aware of his body and his cock, just because you knew the exact heights he could take you, that didn't matter. When it came down to it, Dean Solo was your best friend and that's what you both needed.

"All right. Episode V, let's go," Solo said, walking in with the case open in his hand and the disc on his finger.

You smiled as he grabbed the leftover snacks and set them aside on the dresser, giving you free reign to put your legs wherever you wanted. You curled into his side and lay your head on his chest as he settled against the headboard. You reminded yourself that it was just comfort, just friendly, as he wrapped his arm around you and started the featherlight touches along your neck and shoulder. You closed your eyes and let yourself fall asleep in his arms.


	9. Hunger

**Summary** : Y/n and Solo are trying to deal and move forward. Why is that so much easier with Sam and Dean in Apocalypse World?

 **Story Warnings:** dom/sub relationship, mentions of demon blood drinking, mentions of torture, mentions of violence to reader, mentions of noncon, pregnancy…no sex, just arousal

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Waking up in Dean’s arms wasn’t really anything new. Waking up in Dean’s arms in the bunker in the bed you shared with Sir was. You sat up and looked down at him. He looked so…soft, so snug and good. You tucked a lock of hair away from his forehead and he sighed softly in his sleep. He looked beautiful.

You slipped off of the bed and tiptoed out of the room, heading for the library where Rowena was reading a book and drinking a cup of tea. She raised an eyebrow as you entered. “Good morning, Dr. Winchester.”

You shook your head at the name. “Please, just…call me Y/n, please.”

“The others call you ‘Doc’, don’t they?”

You nodded. “Doc will work, just…not Winchester, please.”

She hummed and set her tea cup on its saucer. “Y/n, then. How are yew faring?”

“I don’t know. Kind of surprised that I woke up and I was still home. I guess it still hasn’t fully sunk in that I’m actually home…safe.”

“Well, yer never really safe, are yew? But yew are safe from _him_.”

You shook your head. “Not in my mind.” You licked your lips and sighed. “When will they be back? I’m ashamed to say I didn’t catch the whole plan.”

“Oh! Well, tomorrow at 11pm, I’ll reopen the tear and assuming they’ve done what they’re supposed to do, they’ll come right back through.”

Seventy-two hours didn’t seem like enough time, but you weren’t going to question it out loud. You cleared your throat and bit your thumbnail. “Okay, I’m…I’m gonna make Solo some breakfast. Would you like something?”

“Oh, no. I’m just fine, dear. So, yew’ve settled on ‘Solo’ for the friend you made?”

“Yeah. Dean likes Star Wars. It makes…it works.” You smiled tightly and turned away.

You were halfway through making scrambled eggs and bacon when Solo padded into the kitchen, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hands. “Mornin’.”

“Morning. Bacon?”

“Thought I was supposed to be slowing down on calories and junk,” he asked, sitting on the edge of the table and watching you work.

“You think I’d make you breakfast without making bacon to go with it? Don’t insult me,” you responded, smiling.

“Oh, bless you, sweetheart. You know me so well,” he said, dropping to sit on the bench seat.

You nodded. You did. You knew him very well. “So, I was thinking…we both need some clothes and you need a haircut…I might as well get one too, so we could go ahead and get out of the Bunker and head to the little mall in Smith Center. We could get a few outfits.”

“You don’t gotta waste your money on me, Doc. I’m sure I can find a pair of clippers around this place somewhere and I’m good in these-” He started to gesture at Dean’s oversized clothes.

“When you put on a few dozen pounds, you’ll be just fine in Dean’s clothes, but right now, you need some clothes that fit you, Solo…and don’t worry about the money. I’ve got a lot in savings.”

“Yeah, but shouldn’t that be, like, a nest egg for you and your husband?”

“Taking a couple hundred dollars out to buy some clothes that fit is not gonna burn through my nest egg, okay? Don’t argue with me, please. Let’s just go ahead and do this with me.”

He nodded as you walked around the counter and set a plate on the table in front of him. “Okay, Doc. We’ll go to the mall. Might need to ditch our babysitter, though.”

“I’m sure Rowena won’t mind us stepping out for a few hours. I’d be more worried about leaving her alone in the Bunker, but…it’s fine.”

You sat on the opposite side of the table and started to pick at your own plate.

“Doc. Come on. Gotta eat real food…even if you don’t wanna eat it for _you_ , you gotta do it for the baby.”

You looked away, not really wanting to think about the baby. “Gotta get vitamins while we’re out.”

“And you should get a doctor’s appointment.”

“I _am_ a doctor, Solo.”

“You’re an ER doctor. You’re not an OB…and you can’t do the tests and stuff on _yourself_. Also, you’ve been gone for half a year. You probably don’t have a job anymore so no place to practice, anyway,” he argued before shoving food in his mouth.

“Well, I don’t know how much I really want to do all those tests. I don’t know if I’m gonna…ya know…keep it,” you admitted.

His eyes jumped to your face in surprise. “You wanna…” He licked his lips and swallowed down the mouthful of food. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. I just didn’t think…but if it’s…I mean, how it happened, I guess that makes sense.”

He seemed extremely distressed about the idea of you terminating or giving up the baby so you reached out and took his hand. “I don’t know what I’m doing yet. I just…It’s…”

“It’s a product of…Yeah.” He nodded and cleared his throat, pulling his hand back. “No, I get it…and I don’t want you to feel like I’m-I’m tryin’ to sway you, but…that’s a fuckin’ Winchester in there,” he said, gesturing at your stomach with his fork. “Mine or his, it’s a Winchester…and I…I don’t know. Seems like a waste to-to get rid of it.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do about it yet. I just…I just know that the entire situation kills me and I just want to cry all the time, okay? I’m trying to think about the future and I can’t. All I can focus on right now is eggs and bacon and new clothes and hair that fits your face and personality. I’ll think about this _thing_ after my brain settles a bit. Please, don’t be mad at me.”

He set the fork down and moved around to your side of the table, pulling you into a hug much quicker than you expected him to move. “I’m not mad at you. I’m not mad. I just…I was just…I was…” The words stalled in his throat so you looked up at him, urging him with your eyes to finish the sentence. His cheeks went completely red and he turned his eyes to the tabletop before taking a deep breath. “I was hopin’ it might be mine, is all. I’ve…I’ve always wanted…It’s stupid. Even if it’s mine… _you’re_ not, so…”

He cleared his throat and stood. He gave an obviously fake and far too bright smile and picked up his plate, forking the rest of the food into his mouth as he walked to the sink. “I’ma get a shower and then you can show me the garage, huh?”

You were lost for words as he walked out of the kitchen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Solo let out a loud gasp as soon as his eyes fell on the Impala sitting in the garage. “Oh my God! Look at ‘er!” He ran over to the car and ran his hand over the shiny trunk. “Oh, baby, I haven’t seen you in years!” He leaned in the window and let out a soft, awed noise. “You smell so good! Leather and gunpowder and french fry grease. Smells like home. Probably can’t take her, right?” he asked, leaning back out the window and looking at you over the roof.

You shook your head. “My car’s over here. Not as great as the Impala, but…it’s a Chevy.” He sighed heavily and kissed the roof before following you to your little grey Malibu. “You wanna drive?” you offered and he bit his bottom lip.

“You gonna navigate? I got no clue where we’re goin’.”

You smiled and nodded, offering him your keys. “Yeah. There’s a map in the glove box, but it’s pretty much a straight shot down Highway 36.”

He smiled as he took the keys. “You remember I haven’t been behind the wheel since 2007, yeah?”

You chuckled. “I trust you.”

The drive to Smith Center was easy. Dean didn’t mess up on the drive until it came time to park in the mall lot, where his first attempt had him halfway between two spots. He backed out and fixed it quick before getting out. “Ya know…we could just go ahead and pick up my clothes at a Walmart or something. We don’t need to pay mall prices for-”

“Shut up, Han. We’re getting you good clothes that fit and a haircut and a damn soft pretzel and you’re gonna stop acting like you don’t deserve nice things, okay, because that’s what Master made you feel like and it’s bullshit,” you snapped, turning to him in the parking lot. “And I’m not calling him that anymore. He’s…the bastard. The asshole. The junkie. He’s the fucking junkie that-that made us do-”

Solo reached out and put his hand on your shoulder. “Okay. Calm down. Let’s go have a nice shopping trip. Calm down.”

You let out a sigh and rubbed your fingers over your eyes. “I think it’s starting. Are _you_ okay?” you asked before heading toward the mall again.

“What, withdrawals? I got the first twinge of it while I was in the shower. I’ll be all right,” he dismissed, following you. “Sam used to dry me out every once in a while to see how it’d affect me. We’ll be fucking messes tonight, but we’ll be okay by lunch tomorrow.”

“Really?” you asked, tucking your hands behind your back as you walked. “Sam and Dean told me that when he was going through withdrawals, he was hallucinating and that he was doing an Exorcist, floating over the cot in Bobby’s panic room.”

“Bobby had a panic room?”

“Uh, yeah. I guess? I don’t know firsthand. He was gone by the time I met Sam.”

Solo nodded. “Uh, anyway, um…I’m assuming that Sam was drinking the blood pretty heavy when they tried to make him cold turkey? Yeah, that’s probably why it hit him so hard. Worst one I ever had was when Sam had me keeping up with him for three days and then just stopped. Hallucinations were a given, but I am pretty sure I didn’t float.”

“But since Sam was only giving us a few sips a day, you think we’ll be okay?”

“Yeah.”

You nodded. “Well, tonight’s gonna suck but if I have tomorrow to look forward to, then I’ll get through it, I’m sure.”

“I’ll help you get through it,” he promised and you smiled as you stepped into the mall.

“I know you will.”

Haircuts were first, so you directed him to the Regis Salon and smiled as the stylist got a little flustered when he smiled at her.

“He wants a taper cut. Take about an inch off the top, too,” you said and he nodded.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

Another stylist came to help you and you watched in the mirror as Solo got his hair cut by a professional for the first time in a decade. When all was done, you looked like you and he looked a bit more like Dean, but still enough of his own skinny, scarred version of himself to tell the difference. You handed the stylists their tips and paid for your cuts and then headed for the closest department store. He only let you buy him two pairs of jeans (size 28 waist compared to Dean’s size 32s) and two medium flannels, but you grabbed socks, boxers, two packs of plain black undershirts and a new pair of dark brown boots and didn’t let him tell you ‘no’.

You made him change in the food court bathroom and smiled brightly when he exited in clothes and shoes that fit him correctly. “That’ll hold you over until you put back on a few pounds.”

“Am I too skinny for you, Doc?” he teased with a smirk as he smoothed out his green and blue plaid over his black shirt.

“No. But I’d rather you be healthy.”

He took the Sears bags from your hands and nodded. “Fine. You can buy me lunch, too. Sbarro?”

“Cinnabon for dessert?”

“Holy shit, I forgot about Cinnabon!” he exclaimed. “Yes! Yes, Cinnabon for dessert!”

You laughed as you walked over to the Sbarro, grabbing greasy pizza slices before heading to a table. You talked a bit as you ate. Dean’s eyes kept flashing to a screen with the news playing in the middle of the food court. You turned in your seat to see what caught his attention. The captioning scrolling at the bottom of the screen said ‘ **body was missing the heart. The medical examiner says that wild animals are likely the culprit behind** ’.

“No,” you said, turning back around in your seat and picking up your pizza.

“Come on, that is _obviously_ a we-”

“You just got here! You want to go chase down a werewolf? You haven’t hunted anything in ten years!” you whispered fiercely.

“Then I better get back into it, right?” he whispered back. “Look, this is what I’m good at, okay? I’m a hunter and I have been my whole life. You really expect me to ignore something like that? When I came from a place where almost every hunter in the world was murdered brutally by my own brother? Really?”

“Just…not yet. I’ll call someone to check into that, but not you. Please. Not yet.”

He sighed. “Yeah, fine. Just 'cause I gotta be around for your withdrawal, but when Sam and Dean get back, I’m gonna-”

“No, please,” you begged. The idea of him going off to hunt, especially when you knew how unhealthy he was, how rusty his skills were bound to be. You didn’t think he could handle it and you definitely couldn’t handle losing him “I need you. Please, don’t leave me.”

Emotions swirled in his eyes as he looked across the table at him. “I…I-I won’t. I mean…I’ll wait. I’ll wait, Doc.”

You swallowed and took a deep breath. “There’s a gym at the Bunker…and a shooting range. We’ll get you in and…and we’ll…make sure that you are battle ready before you go out and…we can find a hunter to pair you up with. You can’t go alone, even once you’ve got your muscles back.”

He smiled, softly. “All right. Sounds good. You know a lot of hunters?”

You shook your head. “No. Not really. Not outside of Sam and Dean’s inner circle, but…I’m sure I could put some feelers out to the couple I know, who could put feelers out to a couple more. I’m sure we could find someone who would love to hunt with you.”

“And it won’t be weird that I’m, ya know, Dean Winchester?”

“You’re Dean _Solo_ ,” you corrected. “And they’re hunters. They’d understand weird shit happens.”

“Right.” He licked his lips and picked up his coffee from the little coffee cart in the middle of the food court. “You ever think about getting into it?”

You shook your head. “No, I’m not a hunter. I’m just-”

“Just a hunter’s wife. I’ve heard this one before.” He chuckled and took a drink of the coffee. “But you could be. I could teach you. You’re skilled with your hands, you’re smart as hell. You could learn. _You_ could be my hunting partner and then we’d never have to worry about me leaving you or getting hurt with you not around.”

You laughed. “I, somehow, don’t think it’d appeal to my husband if I left the safety of the bunker to go hunting with you.”

“Well, he’s a hunter…he’d understand.”

You sighed and finished off your pizza, setting the box to the side. You were conflicted. You were sure that running off with Solo to hunt would be like ‘picking’ him. You were positive Sam would hate you for it. You also knew that you weren’t going to be able to go back to the way things were before you got sent away.

“Let’s go get a couple cinnamon rolls,” you said, standing.

He followed you, coffee in hand. “I think you’d make a good hunter,” he pressed.

“Maybe.”

You ordered two cinnamon rolls and an order of cinnamon twists and walked out to eat them in the car. You offered him one of the sticks and he opened his mouth for it. He licked his lips and moaned happily at the taste and you looked away, cheeks heating up as you remembered him moaning over the taste of you.

He ripped the edge of his cinnamon bun off and offered it to you and you obediently parted your lips for him. You didn’t miss the way his pupils dilated as you took the confection in your mouth and you couldn’t stop the zing of arousal that went through you as his eyes settled on your tongue, and you couldn’t help the little whimper that escaped after his whispered ‘fuck’.

You kept feeding each other bits of cinnamon and sugar and pastry, growing more aroused with the sounds and the sight of his arousal much more evident in his new jeans, until there was nothing left but the remnants of icing and sugar on your fingers. He obviously wasn’t ready to be done, though, because he grabbed your wrist and sucked your fingers into his mouth.

Your own mouth went dry as his tongue maneuvered across your fingers, licking them clean. He looked a little sheepish as he pulled your hand away from his mouth. “Sorry. Got…a little carried away,” he said, his touch lingering as you swallowed thickly.

You barely heard the apology because you were so focused on his icing-covered lips. Plump, pretty, kissable, literally sweet…

You leaned forward to kiss him before you could stop yourself. You were obviously more shocked by your actions than he was because he immediately grabbed your head with his clean hand and returned the kiss, parting his lips and licking into your mouth. It felt good to be kissed again and Dean knew what he was doing so well. He barely used his tongue, but you were moaning into him.

You pulled back and looked at him in shock. You couldn’t believe you’d done that.

“We, uh, should probably go back, huh?” he suggested, yanking his pant legs down to give his crotch some room.

"Yeah.”

You were halfway back down Highway 36 to Lebanon when he reached out and took your hand. “It’s okay, Doc.”

You shook your head. “Shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, not…not under normal circumstances. Under normal circs, that’d be a shitty thing for you to do, but we aren’t under normal circumstances, are we?” He looked over at you for a moment before turning back to the road. “We’re kinda…look, complete honesty here, Doc, I care about you a lot and I know you feel the same for me. It’s a mess but you make me wanna be the man I was before I went to Hell and I wanna help you be the Doc you were before Sam got his hands on you. That’s not shitty.”

“But…Sam… _my_ Sam,” you started to argue but Solo scoffed.

“The guy you can’t even look at? The one whose voice makes you cringe?” His words made you bristle with Indignation. “Look, I know you love him and that’s why this hurts so much but getting past what _my_ Sam did to us is gonna take some time…and in the meantime, you and I…we are allowed to take some comfort in someone who cares about us.”

You looked away out the window but you kept hold of his hand. It made sense. Comfort was a basic human need and you were not going to be getting it from your husband for a while…but it was wrong. Everything felt wrong. You were wrong.

“He’s my husband. I’m supposed to stick with him through thick and thin.”

“He’s-” Solo shook his head and chuckled. “Yeah, he’s your husband but he’s also the doppelganger of the man who raped you repeatedly, broke your goddamn jaw, treated you like a sex toy and a pet, starved you, and forced you to walk around in front of his demons completely nude, often treating you like a sex toy right in front of them and-”

“ _Stop_!” you demanded, pulling your hand away and shutting your eyes tight against the wave of panic that fell over you at the reminder.

“You wanna stick by him and you wanna love him, but is that really feasible, Doc?”

You pressed your fingers into your eyes and shook your head. “What am I supposed to do? I don’t know what to do, Dean. I can’t…I can’t do this…”

“Yes, you can. Of course you can. I know you’re trying to push it down and get over it, but pushing it down is not gonna work for this.” He sighed as you pulled your hands away from your face. “You’ve got months of torture in your head.”

“You’ve got _years_. How are you okay and I’m not?”

“I’m _not_. I am a hundred different kinds of fucked up but I learned a _long_ time ago how to hide my damage. But if you think hearin’ your Sam’s voice doesn’t make me wanna drop to my knees with my hands in my lap and my head hanging, you’re wrong. Separating your husband from our tormentor is gonna take a lot of work and I don’t know if it’s something I can even realistically do.” He cleared his throat. “Part of why I wanna get out and start hunting again.”

“Yeah, go bury yourself in death and violence. Fine. That sounds like a plan,” you said, bitterly. “But don’t do that until you’re well.”

“I’m not gonna be well, Doc…but I won’t go hunting AMA, okay?”

“Guess that’s the most I can ask, huh?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Where have yew been?!” Rowena exclaimed as you walked into the Bunker from the garage. She gave Solo an appreciative look before turning back to you. “Yew went fer haircuts?”

“You might have noticed but we’re adults. We don’t really need a babysitter, Rowena,” you answered, stepping around her.

“Wee bit delusional to think Samuel isn’t going to ask fer a bloody report when he gets back.”

“Then report that Doc felt the need to get us some clothes that fit and a damn haircut, okay? There something wrong with that?” Solo defended, wrapping his hand around your bicep and guiding you toward the bedrooms. His voice dropped to a whisper as he approached the room you claimed. “She’s gonna tell him we’re sick. You think he’ll recognize withdrawal symptoms?”

“Who knows? But we should be okay by the time they return so…grab a trash can. I’m gonna vomit soon, I can feel it.”

Solo grabbed the trash can under the sink and handed it to you. “You’re gonna get sweaty and it’s gonna hurt. You’re gonna feel like your insides are being pulled out through your esophagus, but once that part passes, you’re just gonna wanna sleep forever.”

“Can we get to that part? I really wanna get to that part,” you groaned, leaning your head over the can.

Solo sat next to you on the bed and rubbed his hand down your spine. “It’s gonna take a while. Sorry, honey,” he whispered. He pressed his lips to your temple and sighed. “But I'ma get you through it.”

You nodded, closing your eyes as nausea hit you. The next few hours were going to suck, but then you’d be done. Demon blood wouldn’t be an issue anymore and the only source of unrelenting nausea would be the hormones coursing through your system.

After hours of throwing up stomach acid next to Solo doing the same, you ended up passing out next to him. You were wearing a sweat-soaked bra and panties and nothing else. You dreamed of holding a black-eyed baby and Sir cooing over how much it looked like him. You woke the next morning still nauseated but you were no longer in pain.

“You good?” Solo asked as you sat up.

“You think this is gonna affect the baby? The blood. Do you think the blood is gonna affect it?”

Solo licked his lips and ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know, honestly. Sam was given-”

“I know, but that wasn’t in utero. Do you think this baby will be-”

“No.” He shook his head. “Might be a little potential for darkness but it’s all about choices, right? It’s about…how a kid’s raised. If I’d raised Sam better, maybe-”

“You shouldn’t have been in that position in the first place.”

“Yeah, well, I was. Look.” He set his hand on your lower abdomen and looked into your eyes. “Don’t go thinking this kid’s evil when you haven’t even seen it yet.” You looked away from him, but slipped your hand over his on your belly. “You should get a doctor’s appointment, Y/n. Get a sonogram and all those tests.”

“You just want me to get a paternity test.”

“Not ‘just’, but…yeah. Yeah, because if it’s mine…” He reached up and cupped your cheek, and you turned into the touch. “Doc, if it’s mine, I wanna know that shit. I’ve never made anything. Never created a damn thing, but if I created this…if something new and good came out of my years of torture…then it was worth it. All that pain would be worth it if I got to create something.”

“What if it’s not good?” you whispered, voice full of fear. “What if…what if he made it…”

“He can’t. He’s not gonna be able to do a damn thing about it. Even if the blood did something, that kid…that kid is gonna be as good as its mom, okay?”

You nodded. It made a bit of sense. “I’ll look into getting a doctor’s appointment. Now that the blood’s out of me.” You shook your head and sighed. “I still don’t know how I’m supposed to tell Sam when I can’t even look at him.”

“You’ll tell him. Eventually.”

You stood up and gathered up some of your new clothes and a towel before heading to the showers to clean off all the sweat and nastiness of the night.

As water cascaded over your body, your brain turned to the look in Solo’s eyes and the tone of his voice when he said “If I created this”. As much as you hated the thought when Sam told you that you were pregnant, the idea didn’t seem like such a bad thing anymore.

You felt much better after the shower. Clean. Almost human. No drugs in your system. Only a bit of pain in your body. No collar, clean clothes, Doc instead of Miss Piggy. Doc instead of Chubby Bunny. Maybe, if you could be Doc again then Sam could be Sir again.

But the very idea of Sam being Sir, of ropes and floggers and wartenberg wheels, it all made you cringe. The thought of sex with Sam made you hyperventilate. You weren’t sure sex was ever going to happen for you again.

You were surprised to find the room clean and completely refreshed. Solo took the time you were in the shower to take Lysol to every surface and change the sheets on the bed.

He smiled at you as he tossed the rag he was using at the sink. “Hey. How you feelin’?” he asked.

“I’m okay. Better now…maybe I’ll be okay eventually.”

He chuckled. “That’d be good. I hope you get okay. You gonna call an OB/GYN?”

You chuckled and nodded. “Yeah. I’ll call a doctor. Go take a shower, Solo.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He smirked as he grabbed a towel and some of his new clothes and walked out of the room. You smiled and sat on the bed, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. Maybe things would be okay.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

People, many of whom you had never seen, filled the Bunker. You recognized Ketch, but you weren’t exactly sure how he became a friend. You recognized Mary, of course, and Jack and Cas. But no one else. It was suddenly a very loud environment, with hunters drinking beers and whiskey and being loud and too much. Your heart pounded in your chest at the noises. Laughter shouldn’t unnerve you, but it did.

You retreated to your room. Sam and Dean were drinking with Cas. Solo was staring at Mary from across the war room. Jack was pouting in the corner. No one seemed to notice your departure.

You curled up on the bed and took deep breaths. It was obviously Post Traumatic Stress, of course. You recognized it. You hated it, but you recognized it.

“You disappeared.” Sam’s voice was calm and quiet, but you could smell the whiskey on his breath from across the small room.

“Too loud. Too much going on. It was overwhelming.”

“Can we talk?” he whispered, stepping closer and letting the door swing shut.

“I…I want to…I wanna explain. I want…I just don’t know if I can.”

“Please. Y/n, just…try.”

You took a deep breath and sat up, avoiding looking at him. “He was horrible. It was horrible. I…was…he…took me to the mansion and he…he made me tell him about _you_ …how you ended up married to a fat piece of shit like me. He really…he bullied me about my weight a lot.” You pulled your knees up to your chest and rested your head against them. “He didn’t care about it, though. He just wanted to make me feel bad. If he cared that I was fat, he wouldn’t have raped me.”

You closed your eyes. “Over and over and over…and my body, it…I knew it wasn’t you, but my body…” You sniffled and bit the inside of your bottom lip. “Eventually, he brought the other Dean in. Solo. He’s Solo now. Sam had him…had him in Hell for four years. It took him four years to break but I didn’t even last a day. But…but Sam brought him in and he…he liked…he liked his pets, his toys…he liked playing with us together and making us…do things t-to each other and…”

You could hear him shift and you opened your eyes enough to see his hands curled into fists at his sides. You had to close your eyes to let yourself continue.

“He made us drink…demon blood with him and…he practically starved us and…he…” You took a deep breath. “He dislocated my jaw once and I’m pregnant.”

The silence after you finished speaking was deafening. You could imagine the look on his face, but you couldn’t make yourself open your eyes again to see it.

“You’re pregnant?” he whispered. You nodded, your head moving against your legs as you did so. “H-how far along?”

“It’s not yours. It’s _his_ …or Solo’s.” You hugged your knees tighter and sniffled again. “He…the King, he made us…he made Solo take me almost as many times as _he_ did. He wanted me…he wanted an heir. He wanted a family.”

“You and Dean-” Sam started.

“Solo,” you corrected.

“You had sex with Solo and you might be pregnant with his child?” he asked. His voice was dangerous and quiet.

“Yes.”

“You had sex with Solo, you might be pregnant with his child, and you _made_ us bring him here?” he continued.

“And I kissed him yesterday,” you admitted, shame filling you.

There was another long, _loud_ silence before he let out a breath. “Do you love him?” he asked, finally.

‘Yes’ was the honest answer. Yes, you did love Solo. He was the person you were closest to. You loved him, but it wasn’t the same kind of love you felt for Sir.

“I love _you_ ,” you replied.

“That’s not an answer, Doc,” he growled and you jerked with fear. He let out a sigh. “Fuck, I’m sorry.” You heard the sound of something sliding down the wall and raised your head to see him sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall with his head tilted back against the wall. “I…died in the Apocalypse World.”

You gasped, shock filling you. He died? “I died and when Lucifer brought me back, all I could think about was how much I wanted to get home to see you…how much I wanted to hold you again. All I could think about was how much I love you, Doc. I know this is gonna be hard. I know he hurt you and he was me, but I’m different. You know I’m different.”

“I know,” you whispered. “I know you are but it’s too hard right now. It’s too hard to separate you from him and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Sam. I just…I’m sorry.”

“I just need you to promise that you’re going to keep trying,” he practically begged. “Promise me you’re going to keep trying to separate me from him.”

You nodded. “Of course I’m gonna keep trying, but…I…I need time…and I need Solo. I need him.”

He ran his hand through his hair and thudded his head against the wall. “Honestly…everything in me wants to kick his ass for even touching you. You’re my wife. You’re _mine_ …but…” He shook his head. “If he’s what you need to get past this and be my wife again, then he can stay, as long as you need him.”

Your vision went blurry as tears filled your eyes. “Really? You-you don’t mind?”

“I _mind_ ,” he disputed. “Of course I mind. You’ve got a boyfriend and he’s my brother from another universe and he raped you because the me from that universe made him and you’re pregnant. You’re my wife and you’re pregnant and it’s not mine. I mind all of this shit.”

He scooted forward and set his hand on the bed next to you. He was being careful to move slowly, be soft so as not to scare you. “But you’re my wife and I love you more than I have ever loved anyone and I will do whatever I need to do to get you back.” He sighed happily as you set your hand on top of his. “Our souls are connected. I will do whatever it takes.”

“What if I’m broken forever?” you asked, catching his eyes and sniffling. “What if I can never be the woman you…” You took in a sharp breath. “You wanted me because I was…” You looked away. Words were getting too hard again. “What if I can never be your sub again?”

There was silence as he turned his hand over to gently grab yours. “That’s okay,” he whispered, eventually.

“No, it’s not. You married a submissive. You married a woman who liked to be tied up and choked and let you have all the control and if I can’t-”

“Doc, I didn’t fall in love with you because-”

“You only even came home with me because I was corruptible,” you interrupted. “You only wanted me because I could take a hit and I don’t know if I can-”

“I fell in love with you because you’re smart and sweet and understanding,” he argued quietly. “I fell in love with you because you are beautiful and amazing. I fell in love with you because you’re the best thing that has ever happened to me. You being a submissive was a bonus, but I took you for drinks before I even _knew_ you were corruptible. I love you because you’re perfect, Y/n. Whether you can take a hit or not, whether you can be tied up or not, whether you want me to choke you or not, I am in love with you.”

You pulled your hand away and buried your face in your palms. You weren’t sure what you were crying about, exactly, but you needed to cry.

“I will always be in love with you,” Sam said as he stood up. “I’ll…send Solo in after he gets done stalking Mom.” He let his hand softly move across your head before walking out of the room, leaving you to cry alone.


	10. Going, Going, Gone

**Summary** : Doc needs Solo, but Sam isn’t handling that very well.

**Story Warnings:** dom/sub relationship, mentions of demon blood drinking, mentions of torture, mentions of violence to reader, mentions of noncon, pregnancy… **18+! HERE BE SEX!! DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!** unprotected sex, 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hey,” Solo said softly as he slipped into your room. “You mind if I sleep in here again? The newbies need space and I was gonna offer up my room since your husband told me that we’ve, um, got his blessing?”

You sniffled. “Yeah. I want you in here.”

He closed the door softly and walked forward. “You’ve been crying.”

“I talked to Sam,” you moaned softly.

“Yeah, me too,” he whispered, climbing onto the bed and pulling you against his chest. “I thought he was gonna deck me, but he just pulled me aside and told me you...you told him the truth and what the other Sam did and...about the baby.” His right hand settled on your lower belly and you closed your eyes. 

"Told him about the blood, too. I gave him the broad strokes of-of all of it. You-you kept saying he would understand. It was one of the first things you said to me, that if my Sam was as good a man as I said, he'd understand."

"Yeah. I was right." He cuddled closer to you and pressed a kiss to the bolt of your jaw. "Your Sam is a completely amazing man. I wish my brother had turned out like that."

"We wouldn't be in this situation if your brother had turned out like that," you whispered. You leaned your head back against his shoulder and sighed. "All I want is to feel okay again."

"It'll happen."

You nodded and let your eyes close, feeling safe in Solo's embrace, even from the things in your head. "Are you going to come to my appointment?"

"Of course. You want me there, I'm there."

“You wanna be there, though?” you whispered.

“Yes. Are they...are they gonna do an ultrasound?” 

“Yeah...and if you don’t mind giving a bit of blood, they can get the NIPP going.”

“The what?” he asked, sitting up a little.

“Non-Invasive Prenatal Paternity. They compare your blood to the fetal blood cells that are in my blood right now.”

“Yeah, I’ll bleed for that. How long would it take to get the results?”

“Ten days, maybe less.”

He settled behind you again and sighed into your hair. “You sure you want _me_ there? Not…”

“Yeah. I want you with me.”

“Okay. Get some sleep, Doc.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ya know, it’s awkward,” Dean said when you walked into the kitchen the next morning. “Spent half the night with a drunk Sam in my room.” You looked away from him and walked to the fridge. “Almost as awkward as checkin’ in on you and finding my doppelganger wrapped around you.”

“Dean. Please, don’t.”

“Don’t what? I’m not doin’ anything, Doc.” He took a drink of his coffee and shrugged. “Just wondering what your plan is.” You didn’t respond as you grabbed the jug of milk and checked the expiration date. “Do you even have a plan? Have you considered how you’re gonna move forward? Have you thought about the way this is gonna affect-”

“Are you seriously asking me if I’ve thought about the way my rape and torture and forced pregnancy are gonna affect _anyone_ other than myself?” you snapped, setting the milk on the counter and turning to grab a cup out of the cabinet, still not looking at your brother-in-law. “Are you seriously asking me to put Sam’s feelings above my own when I can barely think straight long enough to recognize my feelings?”

You twisted the lid off of the jug and poured the glass half full. “Are you trying to guilt me, Dean? Are you under the impression that I’m not being crushed by guilt already and you need to add to it?” You finally lifted your eyes to look at him and you hoped the glare you sent him was as cutting as his careless words were to you. “Shut the hell up.”

Dean set his coffee cup down and stood. “Look, I’m not trying to guilt you. I’m just making sure that you’re aware of-”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m aware, Dean! I’m not stupid, okay, and I’m aware!” You wiped at your eyes and shook your head at him. “You wanna point out how much pain I’m putting Sam through? Really? You really think I don’t know? Should I have lied?” You sniffled, your lips turning down in a harsh sneer as you fought your tears. “You should have left me there. You should have just left me to die in that other world."

"Don't say that," Dean said softly. "No one wants-"

"It would have been better for him to lose me and mourn me and move on, right? Like he did with Jessica. If I'd just stayed gone, I wouldn't be hurting him right now."

"Whoa! I'm sure Dean didn’t mean anything like that," Solo said, walking into the kitchen. "Right, Dean?"

"Man, don't come into our conversation like you're part of it," Dean said, turning on him.

Solo chuckled, a darkness to the sound. "Man, I don’t care who you are, I will lay your ass out if you keep talkin'."

"Ya know, I never realized how truly annoying that ‘fight everything’ attitude of mine is,” Dean growled. “You’ve got the muscle tone of a prepubescent girl. You wouldn’t be able to _touch_ me in a fight.”

“Keep pushing and we’ll see.”

You picked up your milk and walked out of the kitchen, leaving them to glare and growl at each other. 

~~~~~~~~~~

“There’s so much paperwork,” Solo complained as you filled out the intake packet. 

“If you’re bored, go play with the busy beads,” you offered, pointing at the beads on wires in the corner of the waiting room.

“Oh, really? You think I’m gonna be offended but I’m bored as heck and that’s-”

“It’s a stimulating activity akin to the bouncy-leg thing you do. Grab a sanitizer wipe from the counter and go busy yourself while I finish this.”

He stared at you a few moments before he stood and grabbed a wipe from the counter. He quietly moved the beads back and forth along their twisty wires until you stood and handed the packet to the nurse, who smiled brightly as she took the papers and handed you a collection cup. “We’ll need a urine sample. You can go in that bathroom over there and follow the directions on the sign over the toilet.”

You nodded and headed into the bathroom, wiping with cleansing wipes and peeing into the cup before leaving it in the cabinet and heading back out to the waiting room. “Are you nervous? I’m nervous. Is it weird that I’m nervous?” Solo whispered when you sat back down.

“Yes, that’s okay, and no.”

They took your vitals and weight, and drew blood from both you and Solo before taking you to an exam room. It was small and cold and you found yourself shivering in your hospital gown until Solo wrapped you in a hug. 

“Ms. Y/l/n?” the OB/GYN greeted as he walked in. 

“Doctor,” you corrected with a smile. “It’s Dr. Y/l/n. I even wrote that on my patient intake.”

“Oh, so you did,” Dr. Bachman said, adjusting his glasses and looking at the new file in his hand before lifting his eyes to Solo. “Is this daddy?” 

“We hope so,” you answered. 

“Ah, yes, I see a paternity test has been requested,” he said, a subtle air of judgment on his words.

“Yes. A NIPP was requested and I’d like the results as soon as possible.”

“You should have brought the others in, as well. It’s a lot more definitive if you-”

“There’s not a plural other. If Dean’s not the father then it’s definitive who is. But thank you.” You smiled tightly and took a deep breath. “Now, can we please do this exam?”

Dr. Bachman nodded and started the exam, asking questions as he went along. Finally, it came to the point where he pulled out the gel and ultrasound machine. “Now, according to your last period, you should be about 14 weeks along. Let’s take a look at this little guy or gal.”

Your jaw dropped a bit when the doctor found the baby and centered it on the screen. “Oh, my God,” you whispered, staring at the screen. It was a normal-looking baby. Small, but a baby.

“Yeah. The little bugger is about three and a half inches long, which is about the size of a 14 week fetus. Do we want to know the sex?”

“Yes,” you and Solo answered at the same time.

Dr. Bachman smiled and pointed at the screen. “Right there, that is a penis. You’ve got a little boy with a healthy heartbeat, seems to be growing well.”

You looked over at Solo, whose jaw was dropped as he stared at the screen. His eyes were wide and he looked happier than you could ever remember seeing him. “Heartbeat’s so fast,” he whispered.

“Yeah, um, small heart,” you said, smiling.

“He’s...oh!” Solo gasped as the baby yawned and stretched his arms up. “He’s so beautiful!”

“Yeah,” you agreed.

“Let me print you a few pictures.”

“You sparkle. You really do sparkle when you’re in love,” you said as you wiped the gel off your belly and started getting dressed. Solo was just staring at the printout of sonogram photos. His eyes were crinkled at the corner. He looked so happy.

He looked over at you and licked his lips. “This little guy is...I...just look at him.” He turned the pictures to show you. “Look at that.”

“It’s nice to see you so happy, Solo.”

“Hey...happier than I’ve ever been,” he responded.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah! Look at this little guy!”

“And if he’s...if he’s Sam’s?” you asked.

“What do you mean? He’ll still be adorable. Look!” he demanded, tapping the top picture.

You smiled, but you didn’t explain yourself. How were you supposed to explain that you were afraid you were going to lose him if the little boy he was fawning over turned out to be Sam’s?

You finished getting dressed and moved to the waiting room, making an appointment for two weeks out and making sure that they would call you when the paternity results came in. You didn’t miss the way the nurse smiled at Solo or how he smiled back.

He would leave. He could have any woman. Just like Sam. They both deserved better than fat, broken, messed-up and-

“Why don’t we stop and get something to eat before we head back to the Bunker?” Solo asked as he held the door open for you. “I could really go for a burger.” You nodded and smiled at him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You would never get a hang of how quickly the whirlwind of Winchester life could spin you around. One moment, the biggest worry in your world was the paternity of a baby you were forced to conceive, and the next you were worrying about Archangels stealing your husband and your adopted Nephil son and one of them taking your brother-in-law for a ride.

Lucifer was dead, but his vessel wasn’t. Dean was gone, Michael hijacking his body and disappearing. Jack’s grace was gone. Everything was suddenly much worse.

By the time your burner phone rang, you had almost completely forgotten about the blood test. When you answered the phone, the bubbly nurse from the reception desk at Dr. Bachman’s office greeted you and asked for your birth date before she gave you the results. You stuck the phone in your pocket and left to go find Solo.

But you didn’t. You walked around the entire Bunker, dodging Apocalypse World hunters and your mother-in-law as you walked the hallways. He was nowhere to be found. You crept into the War Room and waited for Sam to notice you. It took several minutes for him to look up from where he was talking to Maggie and when he did notice you, he immediately looked away.

“Give us a minute,” he said, quietly.

“Sure thing, Chief,” the three hunters at the map table parroted before walking away.

“Ha-have you seen Solo? I was...I can’t find him.”

Sam licked his lips and ran a hand through his hair as he looked away. “He left,” Sam said, simply.

It was like a slap to the face. “Left? He just...he left? Without saying any-” You let out a shocked gasp. “Why? When?”

“Last night while you were sleeping,” Sam said.

It immediately struck you that he only answered one of your queries. “ _Why_ , Sam? Why did he leave?” you pressed.

He bit his tongue and sneered. “Because I have enough to deal with without his bullshit attitude and him...stupid voice sounding like Dean’s...his face…” Sam shook his head and avoided looking at you. “I have to focus and I can’t do that with him around, reminding me every day that I haven’t gotten Dean back yet.”

Anger and indignation like you never felt before flowed over you. “You sent him away?”

His eyes finally found your face. “I gave him one of the old Letters’ cars, a credit card, and a few of Dean’s fake IDs. He’ll be fine.”

“You...sent...him...away?” you repeated, slow and dangerous, rage boiling under your skin.

“He’ll be fine,” Sam repeated, his voice dropping to his own dangerous tone. You were shaking as you turned away from him and started stomping toward the hall. “Doc, wait!” he demanded, following you, but you ignored him. “Where are you going?”

“Away from you,” you snapped, not turning back.

“Don’t be like this, Y/n.”

“Don’t be like this?” You spun on the balls of your feet and turned to him, glaring up at him. “You said you understood! You said you’d do anything to get me okay! You said that you’d do anything to get me back and you sent away the father of my baby?! I can’t believe you! Go fuck yourself, Sam.”

You slammed the door to your bedroom as hard as you could...and then you started packing. You didn’t have a lot of clothes that fit and you didn’t have a lot that you felt you needed to take with you, filling a backpack with what you needed and zipping it quickly. You left quickly, pulling your car out of the garage and driving toward Wichita.

You were passing through Salina, Kansas when you noticed a familiar old Ford truck parked at a motel. You turned around and pulled into the Checkerboard Motor Inn, right next to the truck, and knocked on the door of room #14. 

His eyes went wide when he opened the door to see you standing there. “Doc?” He shook his head, his lips pursed. “Wh-what, what are you doin’ here?”

“You should have said something to me before you left. You should have told me that Sam was kicking you out. You should have-”

“I couldn’t,” he said quietly before stepping back and letting you into the room. He took a deep breath and sighed it out as he shut the door. “He...might’ve been acting all soft and sweet with you the last week, Doc, but he knows exactly how to…” Dean licked the corner of his mouth and settled his eyes on the ugly brown carpet under your feet. “He knows how to be just like my Sam...and I couldn’t do anything to…”

“He used what I told him against you?” you asked.

“I don’t know if he did it on purpose or not, but…” Solo’s cheeks were bright pink as he spoke. “He grabbed my hair, got all...he went Dom on me. He told me to leave and not come back. I asked if I could say ‘goodbye’ and he said ‘no’ so...I got gone enough to feel safe from him, but not so gone that I couldn’t get back quick for you.”

"I'm so sorry, Dean. I'm so sorry he kicked you out. I am so…" You reached up and set your hand against his cheek. "I won't forgive him for this."

"You came to find me. That's wild," he whispered, covering your hand with his own.

"The OB called," you whispered. "He's yours. The baby's yours."

"Really?" he gasped out, his eyes sparkling and lines at the corner crinkled. "He's mine?"

You nodded. "We created something." You left the words 'it was worth it' unspoken, but you could see them in his eyes.

"I'm a dad."

"Yes, you are. As long as this one doesn't go the direction Ben Solo did, we'll be fine."

Solo let out a scoffing laugh and pulled you into a hug. "Still can't believe Harrison Ford made them kill off Han Solo...and Disney agreed to that shit!" He squeezed you tight for a minute then sniffled and stepped back. "You hungry?"

"I could eat."

"Burritos?"

You nodded and he smiled. "Awesome. I'll be right back."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You were glad that Sam didn’t have the number for your burner phone because you knew he was searching for you. The dozen emails he sent were proof enough of that. You and Solo spent weeks traveling together, utilizing the on-site gyms at the less-cheap hotels you insisted on to get some muscle mass on Solo. He kept finding hunts and you kept telling him to wait and he listened...for a few weeks.

“Look at me. I’ve put on weight. I’ve put on muscle. I killshot-ed every target at the range yesterday. Let me go take this ghost out,” he begged, green eyes shining. “It’s just a spirit, Doc.”

You couldn’t say ‘no’ to that.

Solo wouldn’t let you help with anything beyond research. “You’re carrying my baby. You don’t have a fake FBI badge...and you might get hurt. You should stay here, see if you can find anything about that house.” He kissed your forehead and left in his dark blue JCPenny suit.

“You humans...so fickle,” Dean’s voice suddenly came from the corner of the room. When you turned, it was definitely apparent that the words were not Dean’s or even Solo’s, but the words of an Archangel. Michael was sitting at the table, right leg crossed over the left. He was wearing a tailored suit and a grey cap. “You don’t stick by your choices well, do you?”

“What does that mean?” you asked, quietly.

“You fell in love with...Sam,” he said, standing. “Married him in your ridiculous little ceremony and now you’re with...that one. Solo. An immigrant from another of my father’s failed projects.”

“What do you think you are, Michael?”

Dean’s lips twitched into an unnerving smirk. “I know exactly what I am, Y/n. Do you?”

“What does that mean?” you repeated.

“You seem to be greatly confused about your place in the world. You seem confused by your place with your people. You claim to be connected to Sam through all of time and space, but that really does mean you’re connected to _all_ Sams.” He straightened his coat collar and raised an eyebrow. “It’s really no wonder you ended up held hostage by him. How did that connection serve to sever the connection you have to _this_ Sam?”

You looked down. His words were making your head hurt.

“How did you end up in bed with Dean?”

“Solo,” you corrected. “ _You’re_ in Dean."

“Does it help to not call him by his name? Is it less of a betrayal?”

“Why are you asking all of these questions? You don’t care. You don’t care about-”

“I’m learning,” he answered simply. “How my father’s creations change and shift. How they lie and make excuses even to themselves. I’m learning about humans...monsters...demons. So tell me, Y/n.”

“I didn’t betray Sam. He betrayed me. He sent away the one man I could be comfortable with...all because _you_ stole Dean. So, why don’t you give him back? Why don’t you just let Dean go?”

“Because I don’t _have_ to." Michael sighed softly and looked around the room. "You don't care about me giving Dean back. You're...happy with things now, aren't you?"

"I'm making the best out of a situation I was forced into. You're reading me wrong if you think I'm _happy_."

Michael tilted his head and turned Dean's eyes back on you, examining you. "And what would make you happy? What do you want?"

You blinked at him a few times before shaking your head. "I don't know."

He hummed thoughtfully. "You honestly don't. Interesting."

"What?"

"Most of you, you make it up. You pretend to want something selfless and altruistic. But _you_ honestly don't know what you want. It’s so simply honest...it's almost inhuman of you."

You looked away from him and bit the inside of your lips. "Yeah, well, I don't feel much like a human lately so…" 

No response came so you looked back to where he was standing. The room was empty.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Michael was here? What the hell? What'd he want?" Solo asked, pulling his tie loose. 

"He was just trying to learn about people. I don’t know. It was weird."

"The Archangel wanted to learn about people?" Solo asked, flopping down on the end of the bed to take his dress shoes off. "Like...like a zookeeper or-"

"Jane Goodall, maybe? I don’t know. He seemed, I don't know, kinda impressed that I gave him a straight answer."

"Well, you're a no-bullshit kinda girl." He sniffled and licked his lips as he looked across the room at you. "What'd he ask?"

Your cheeks heated up as you shrugged. "We talked about happiness and he asked what I wanted.”

“And you said?” Solo set aside his shoes and stood. 

“I said ‘I don’t know’. It’s the honest answer. I don’t know what I want.” He nodded and walked over to the mini-fridge. He didn’t want to push. He was very careful of that. “I miss Sir. I love him...even after what he did. But I...I love you, too. I feel comfortable with you. You make me feel...close to happy.”

“Yeah.” Solo nodded and tried to keep the bitterness he felt off of his face. “Guess that’s the best I can hope for.”

“Solo,” you whispered.

He shook his head. “Nah, it’s fine. ‘Close to happy’ is good. It’s...it’s good.”

You stood and wrapped your arms around him. He immediately melted into the embrace as you laid your head against his chest. "How can I make you happy, Dean?" you whispered. You knew the answer, though. 

Over the weeks, you watched the tension in Solo grow. Lingering touches lingered longer, pining looks never seemed to break, sleepy embraces held harder, showers lasted longer as he took matters into his own hands. 

"I'm happy, Doc. Don't worry 'bout me," he whispered. 

“Don’t lie to me,” you demanded softly. “Tell me.”

His fingers dug into your back as he let out a small sigh. “It’s stupid.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yeah, it is because...because it’s...after everything, I shouldn’t-” He pulled back to look down into your eyes. “I miss sex. I miss sex with you...and I shouldn’t. After everything that Sam made me do, I should never wanna have sex ever again. I should _hate_ sex. The very idea of sex with anybody should be repulsive after being forced into...but I miss it.”

He licked his lips and swallowed. “I miss the noises you make. I miss how your eyes would roll back when I hit your g-spot. I miss how stron--it’s stupid.” He shook his head and reached up to untangle your arms from his neck. 

“It’s not. It’s not stupid. We’re--hey, stop.” You grabbed your left wrist to keep your arms locked around him. “I can’t explain the psychology of sex slavery, but I’m sure that what you’re feeling, it’s got to do with safety and trust. Sex is a basic human need...and just because Sam exploited us for his own needs, that doesn’t mean _our_ needs are stupid.”

“I just...I feel guilty for…” he started to whisper, his eyes focused on yours. “You are...you’re in love with Sam. You miss him.”

“Yeah.” You nodded. “So what?" You smiled up at him and twisted your fingers in the hair at the base of his neck. “It’s not stupid.”

Solo leaned down apprehensively and pressed his lips to yours. It was a soft kiss, nothing like the passionate, sugar-fueled kiss you initiated almost a month before. It was nice, sweet, as he ran his hands down your arms to slide down your body and rest on your hips.

You moved your hands to unbutton his dress shirt, moving at a slow pace as he deepened the kiss, running his tongue along your bottom lip as his fingers flexed against your hips.

“Are you sure?” he whispered as your hands moved to the button of his slacks. “W-we don’t have to do this.”

“Shush,” you responded, stepping back to pull your clothes off as his pants fell to a puddle of cloth at his feet. “Ya know, it has been a long time since either of us did this willingly. I think we need this.”

Solo smiled and dropped his boxers, stepping out of his clothes and grabbing your head for another kiss, this one slow and molasses-sweet. As soon as you were nude, Solo moved you to the bed.

His hands skimmed your body, his lips and tongue worshipping your skin and lips. He whined into your mouth when you wrapped your hand around his erection, pumping your fist up and down his length as he licked at your nipple.

It was good. It was pleasure given and received, not forced into your veins. There was nothing painful or shameful as he settled between your legs and slowly fed his cock into your wet pussy. It was just good.

He stilled once he was completely sheathed in your warmth, staring into your eyes as he held himself up on his elbows. “Y/n.” He started to say more. You could see he wanted to say more than just your name, but he either couldn’t find the words or he couldn’t find the courage to speak them, so he simply leaned down to kiss you again.

You moved together, a slow pace, both ramping each other up and taking your time. You kissed leisurely and entwined your fingers to hold each other. It was intimate and beautiful and when he finally let go and let his orgasm take him, you ran your fingers through his hair.

“I think that was exactly what we needed,” you whispered as you curled into his side.

“It was really good. I’ve been…” He shook his head and wrapped his arm around you to hold you close. “I...thank you,” he concluded.

“Thank _you_ , Dean.”

“Solo,” he corrected with a soft smile.

“Right,” you responded with a smile of your own.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The knock to your hotel room door came as Solo was downstairs doing his morning workout. You grabbed your pistol and approached the door, sighing at the sight of the blond on the doorstep.

You didn’t often talk to Mary Winchester. She wasn’t the most approachable woman before she went to the Apocalypse World and she definitely didn’t improve while she was over there. She knew what happened to you in your own little pre-Apocalypse World, you could tell because of the way she looked at you every day after you told Sam. She went from looking at you with indifference to looking at you with pity. 

You weren’t much in the mood for either approach.

You opened the door anyway. Solo would never forgive you for turning away his mother. “Mary,” you greeted, stepping out of the way so that she could come in.

“Y/n. How have you been?”

You licked your lips and took a deep breath as you shut the door. “I’ve been worse. Solo and I have been doing pretty good. He’s started hunting again. Small game mostly, ghosts and ghouls. I’ve been keeping myself busy with lore and doing a bit of freelance editing stuff to keep the lights on. How are _you_?”

“Aside from the fact that Dean’s still missing and Jack keeps asking about you, we’ve been-”

“Dean’s not missing. Michael has him. There’s a difference,” you snapped. “And Michael has him because Dean made a split-second decision.”

Mary looked down and sighed. “Sam isn’t doing well. He hasn’t been sleeping. He’s not shaving. I don’t think he’s showered in a week.”

“He’s depressed. I have some pharma samples in a box at the bunker. There’s bound to be a few antidepressants in there,” you said, flippantly.

“He needs his wife, Y/n.”

“You know, I’ll bet he needs his _mom_ more than he needs his broken wife, especially considering his broken wife asked for one thing from him, _one_ , and he couldn’t be bothered.”

“You asked him to keep your boyfriend around and-”

“I asked him to support me!” you snapped. “There is one person in this universe who knows what I went through. There is one person I can depend upon. One that can soothe me and make me feel like I’m me again and Sam sent him away.” Your lips were a deep, angry sneer as you glared at Mary Winchester. “Solo is the only person that makes me feel like a human being instead of a damn sex toy and Sam sent him away knowing that I was not going to be okay without him. So, really, am I supposed to care that he’s a bit depressed without Dean? He wanted me to be depressed without _mine_.”

The door opened and Solo walked in, covered in sweat, his tank top clinging to his chest. “Mom? Wh-what are you doin’ here?”

“Sam is depressed,” you answered, looking away from the Winchesters. 

“He needs his wife. He’s already under so much stress about Michael. He needs Y/n.”

Solo licked his lips and stepped around Mary to grasp your chin and tip your gaze back to look him in the eyes. “You wanna go back?”

“Not without you,” you answered immediately.

“Come on, Doc. You don’t-”

“He can come,” Mary said. “If you need your security blanket, you can bring him.”

Solo turned indignant green eyes on Mary. “‘Security blanket’?” 

“I said you can come. Now, can we go?” Mary snapped.

He scoffed and looked over at you. “Lemme get a shower. I’ll follow, babe. I’ll see you back at the Bunker.” He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your cheek before grabbing his duffel and walking into the bathroom.

You glared at Mary for a moment before walking over to grab your own bag. “Ya know...putting other people out to take care of Sam’s mental health doesn’t really make up for the fact that you’ve been a crappy mom since you came back from the dead. Just so you know,” you said, slinging your backpack over your shoulder and heading for the door.


	11. We're All Broken Here

**Summary** : Sam never wanted Doc to see him break, but that’s exactly what she needs.

**Story Warnings:** dom/sub relationship, mentions of demon blood drinking, mentions of torture, mentions of violence to reader, mentions of noncon, pregnancy… **18+! HERE BE SEX!! DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!** dry humping

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You sat in your car for a few minutes after you pulled into the garage. There were two Apocalypse World hunters working on likely-stolen cars on the opposite end of the garage and they eyed you warily for a few minutes before returning to their work. You had to psych yourself up to get out of the car and head into the main part of the Bunker. 

Sam was sitting at the first library table, his head hanging as he watched a video on his laptop. It looked like a body cam footage from a hunt. He was obviously exhausted, a thick scruff on his cheeks and jaw and dark circles under his eyes. He was not well and it made your heart break. All the anger at him kicking out Solo just melted. Sam was nothing without Dean, even when he was bearing the weight of the world.

There it was, in his broken expression and burden-heavy posture, the separation of Master and Sir; this Sam was human, capable of being broken and hurt, and King Sam was not. King Sam was an unslayable monster.

“Sam,” you said softly as you walked up the steps into the Library.

His eyes snapped to yours. “Doc! What are you-”

“Your mom came to find me. She’s worried about you.”

Sam pushed his hair out of his face and looked at his lap. “She didn’t need to do that. I’m fine.”

You leaned against the edge of the table and looked in his eyes. They were almost bloodshot, the whites pink and irritated. “Don’t lie. Even if I didn’t know you, I could tell you’re struggling.” He sighed and leaned back in his chair, scratching at his beard, which you reached out to caress with your fingertips. “When’s the last time you slept?”

“I slept last-” he started to argue but you shook your head.

“For more than two hours,” you clarified.

He avoided the question, leaning into your touch and closing his eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Do I need to bring up stats about poor sleep and the correlation to numerous health issues? You need to sleep, Sam.” Your touch danced across his cheek to tuck your fingers in his hair. Greasy. Mary was right about his lack of showering.

“The hunters need me and I’m the only one who can interact with Nick and I have to find Dean and I just-”

“Sam,” you said, your firm voice forcing his eyes open. You smiled softly and stood up, offering your hand. “You need sleep. Your doctor is ordering you to go lie down and get at least two full cycles. Okay?”

He stared at your hand for a moment before taking it and standing, looking down at you but giving off none of the Dom energy he used to give off. “Will you come with me?” he asked in a soft voice.

You nodded, pressing a kiss to his knuckles before leading him away from the Library. 

“Thank you…for coming home.” The door clicked closed behind him and you dropped to the edge of the bed to take your shoes off.. “Are you…are you staying?”

You shrugged as you dropped your sneakers to the floor beside the bed. “Are you going to send Solo away again when he shows up in a few hours?” He was silent as he thought it over. “My answer depends on yours.” You licked your lips and looked up into his eyes. “I’ve missed you the entire time I was gone. As soon as the anger went away, I missed you because I love you, Sam. I love you and I want to stay but Solo is…Solo is the father of this baby and he’s my best friend…I need him. So are you gonna send him, and me, away again? Or are you gonna let us stay, let us help, let us be?”

Sam sniffled and ran his hand down his face. “I don’t want him here. But I don’t want you to leave. So he can–he can stay and I won’t-”

“Lie down, Sam,” you said softly. He nodded and climbed onto the bed, head on his pillow and legs tucked to the side as he rolled over to face you. You mirrored him, reaching out to take his hand in yours. This was Sam. This wasn’t even Sir. This was Sam Winchester, your husband. This was your love.

“I missed you,” he whispered, hazel eyes sparkling just like Solo’s eyes did.

“I missed you, too. I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry I had to.”

“I…I shouldn’t have sent him…I didn’t mean to-”

You shushed him and shook your head. “It’s not important. Just get some rest.”

He took a deep breath and released it, his whole body shaking as he closed his eyes. You were a bit enamored with this broken vision of your husband. Sam always kept everything locked up tight. Even when he was hurt, physically or mentally, he kept it on lockdown. He never showed it, never let you see the broken parts of him. He never let you see him vulnerable or less in-charge. 

As sad as you were that he was hurt, the fact that he was showing this side of himself was a gift. The fact that he was showing how broken he was, well that was exactly what _you_ needed. 

It didn’t take long for you to fall asleep. You weren’t even tired, but you were comfortable. You were comfortable with Sam for the first time since King Sam burst into your hiding spot to drag you to Corpus Christi.

When you woke up, Sam was staring at you. “You’re still here,” he whispered. 

You nodded and sat up. “Yeah.”

“You’re not scared of…” He looked up at you but didn’t sit up with you.

You shrugged slightly. “This is…you’re so not anything like the other Sam. I just had to…had to see you like this to see the difference.” You leaned over him, tucking his hair away from his face. “Vulnerable is a good look for you, Sam.”

“I’m not supposed to be vulnerable,” he whispered.

“It worked in your favor,” you admitted. “Because he…the other one…he wouldn’t have ever shown this. If ever he felt it, he would never let me, or anyone for that matter, see it.”

“Doc…” He leaned up on his elbows and stared into your eyes. “Can I kiss you?”

“No,” you said and his whole expression dropped, so you smiled. “But I can kiss you.”

You set your hand against his cheek and leaned down slowly, silently wary, waiting for any twinge of your own discomfort. None came as you pressed your lips to his. It probably helped that Master never kissed you. He let out a whining noise as you shifted closer to him, running your hand down to cup his neck as you deepened the kiss. 

He seemed content to let you lead for the first time since he walked into your Emergency Department. You hoped it meant that he wouldn’t fight a changing dynamic. You didn’t want to be the Dominant, but you weren’t okay to be a submissive. Not now. Maybe not ever.

But he seemed content and you were more than a little happy to throw your leg over his lap and kiss him a bit harder. His hands rested on your hips but he didn’t grab you, didn’t force you to move, didn’t even inspire it as your tongue curled around his. That somehow made it easier for you to slide your body down his further and start rubbing yourself against him. 

He gasped into your mouth as he started getting hard from your attentions. “Doc,” he whispered as you started moving faster, rolling your hips and putting your hands in his hair. You briefly wondered when the last time either of you engaged in a session of dry-humping was. For you, it was high school with a boy who refused to go ‘all the way’ with a fat girl, but didn’t mind creaming in his boxers as you stimulated him through his skateboarder shorts. “Fuck, I–Doc, fuck.”

You shushed him as you started licking and nipping at his neck and earlobe. His fingers dug into your hips as he tossed his head back and whimpered. “This what you need, Sam?” you whispered in his ear.

“Need _you_. Just you,” he grunted out.

“I know you do,” you whispered. This was Sam and he loved you, needed you in ways that weren’t sexual or possessive. Sam, not Sir. Sam, not Master. Your husband, the man who saves the world. 

His eyes squeezed shut and he bit his bottom lip. “I’m gonna cum, Doc,” he groaned.

“It’s okay, Sam. Let it happen,” you whispered, pulling his earlobe between your lips and sucking harshly on it. His toes curled as he pulled you down on his lap harder. You could feel the slowly-spreading wet spot in his jeans and you smiled, releasing his earlobe with a pop. You looked down at him, a smirk on your lips as he looked up at you, seemingly shocked at the fact that you made him cum in his pants. “You should go take a shower. I’m gonna go find something to eat.”

“Hey, are-” he started as you rolled off of him and he was able to sit up. “Are you okay? That didn’t…that didn’t mess with-”

“Not triggered, Sam. Let’s take this a day at a time, okay? Slow and steady and all that, but…” You shrugged. “Definitely helped to see you a little less put-together.”

“Had to have a breakdown to get my wife back. That’s a new one,” he said, quietly.

“I’m sure it’s not the first time in history. Look, go take a shower and I’ll make something to eat.”

“Want me to shave?” he asked, standing.

“Nah. I like it.” You reached up and caressed the scruff. “But definitely clean the hair.”

You ventured out of the bedroom and headed for the kitchen. There were several hunters from the Apocalypse World in the kitchen, but you ignored them. This was your home. It didn’t matter if they recognized you or not. The Bunker was yours much more than it was theirs.

Mary walked in as you poured a cup of coffee. “That better be for Sam,” she said. You shook your head and made a show of taking a drink. “Caffeine is bad for-”

“Categorically false, Mary. I looked it up to be sure after my appointment with Dr. Bachman. My blood pressure is just fine and I’m in excellent health for an obese woman who was tortured for half the year. 200 milligrams of caffeine a day is just fine for the baby, so you can pry the caffeine out of my cold, dead hands, okay?” You ended the sentence with a tight, sarcastic smile and she shook her head.

“You don’t need to give me all that attitude, Doc. I’m just trying to look out for-”

“You wanna look out for my son? You don’t even look out for _your_ sons.” You turned to glare at your mother-in-law and shook your head. “You’ve been an absentee mother since you got back from the dead. I have had to watch as Sam tried to be understanding and Dean tried, and failed, to act like it didn’t _kill_ him that you wanted nothing to do with them. The fact that Sam literally died to save you from the world you got yourself taken to…the fact that I got sent off to Hell on Earth because Jack was trying to get you home for them, the fact that you tried to _stay_ in that other world because you made connections with those people when you couldn’t be bothered to make connections with your own sons…”

You scoffed and took another drink as she looked at you with wide eyes. “Fuck you. Let _me_ worry about my son. You worry about yourself. It’s what you’re good at.”

You picked up the plate with the egg-white omelet you made for Sam and walked out of the kitchen. You ran into Solo in the hall, almost literally, but he grabbed your wrist and held you up. “Hey. He okay?”

You smiled. No matter what, Dean cared about Sam. “Yeah. He’s gonna be.”

“And you?”

“I think your mom hates me, but screw it. Monster-in-law can suck a-”

“Hey!” Solo interrupted. “Might not be the woman that bore me, but come on. Still my mom.”

“Sorry. Let me drop this off with Sam and we can talk, okay?”

“Yeah,” he agreed with a nod.

You smiled at Sam running a towel over his wet hair as you entered the bedroom. He’d left the scruff. “I brought you an omelet.”

“Thanks,” he said with a smile. “And thank you for coming back for me.”

You looked down at your feet and shrugged. “Wanna say that I never planned to stay gone, but…when I left, I was so very, very angry with you. I think I would have stayed gone a while longer before I came back.”

Sam shook his head, exasperated with himself. “I’m so sorry, Doc.”

“It’ll be okay. Everything’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna get Dean back and everything will be okay.” You set the plate down on the dresser and smiled at him. “I’m gonna go talk to Solo, get a gameplan going for how he’s gonna do hunts and stuff without his research assistant.”

“He’s been hunting?” Sam asked, pulling a v-neck shirt on and running his hand through his hair.

“He’s Dean. Of course he has,” you said, smirking.

“We could match him up with a couple of the Apocalypse World hunters. They might like to hunt with someone who’s got as much experience as Solo does.”

“I’ll suggest it,” you said before slipping out of the room and heading for the Library. Solo was sitting on the edge of the map table, talking to the young hunter Maggie and a Black hunter whose name you hadn’t caught. “Hey, how we doin’?” 

“Pretty good,” Maggie answered. “Solo was telling us about a wendigo he took down in Washington.”

“With Sam and the family of one of the victims,” you said smiling. “I’ve heard this story a few times. Why don’t you tell the girl about Doc Benton? That’s a really good one.”

Solo’s eyes lit up. “Oh, man. Zombies, am I right?” he started before turning to the other two. “So, I’m comin’ up on my last few weeks, right? I’m about to get ganked and yanked down for selling my soul to bring my brother back from the dead and Sammy comes up and starts talking about a zombie case…and of course, I wanna do a damn zombie case.”

You ruffled his hair and walked away, pulling out your phone. 

“So. How do we feel about Sir?” Solo asked, walking up to you once he finished telling hunter tales to the others.

“I’m not feeling that title for him, Solo.”

“Will you?” he asked. You looked up and set your phone down on the Library table, raising an eyebrow at him. He moved to sit on the table in front of you, pushing the phone further away from you. “It’s a valid question, Doc. You are currently growing a baby inside of you…that is not his. You and I have…well, we bumped some uglies, there’s no gettin’ around that, and I know you care about me just as much as I care about you. So…what, are you just gonna go back to your husband and-”

“Don’t do that. You’re my best friend and the father of this baby, but if you think you’re the only daddy this boy has, then you’re wrong.” You set your hand over your belly and smiled up at him. “This baby boy has you and Sam and a very weird situation where Uncle Dean is genetically also Dad. This kid’s gonna have more support and love than anyone could ever ask for and that’s exactly what it deserves…and you, you might not get me in bed anymore, but you still have my heart and you still have my friendship.”

Solo scoffed and looked away, eyes on the ceiling. “I just don’t wanna lose you. I don’t think I could take that, Doc.”

“You won’t. I promise, you won’t.” You set your hand on his thigh, happy to feel the muscle getting thick when it used to be barely-there. 

“Never gonna find anybody that understands me like you do, ya know?” he said, looking down at you.

“Yeah, but…we can find you someone pretty and smart and amazing…someone who understands hunting, in the very least.”

He threw a glance over at Maggie. “Yeah? Someone who’s _not_ twelve years old?”

You laughed. “She’s twenty, but…yeah. Don’t worry about it.”

“We’re gonna stick around, then?” he asked, quietly.

“Yeah. We’re gonna stick around…and you’re gonna help with hunts while I help with research and get this guy grown,” you answered.

Solo’s mouth twitched into a small smile before he looked down at your belly. “You know, we haven’t talked about names.”

“You wanna name it John…or Bobby, right?” you guessed.

Solo’s head bounced left and right a bit as he pretended to consider it. “I mean, makes sense, doesn’t it? My dad and my dad?”

“We’ll talk to Sam about it, but…I have a dad, too, ya know?”

“Oh. Shit, I didn’t even think about that, Doc. I feel like an asshole,” he whispered, a look of shame in his eyes.

You laughed. “It’s not a big deal. I just think ‘John’ and ‘Bobby’ are very generic names and I don’t know if that’s what I want for him…to have a name everybody in the world has. So…we’ll talk about it.”

He nodded and smiled. “Family vote?” he suggested.

“Maybe. Once we get the rest of the family back. ‘Til then…he’s just our baby boy.”

“Yeah. That works for now.” He smiled. “Hey, you gonna do a baby shower? Do you have friends that can throw that kinda shindig? Is that a thing?”

“Did you just ask if I have friends?” you asked, amused.

“I didn’t mean it like that!”

“Uh-huh. Jerk,” you said, reaching around him. “Yes, I have friends. No, I don’t know if there’s going to be a shower. This is a weird set of circumstances, right?”

“Well…we should see about setting one up. Maybe Mom could-”

“Not likely,” you interrupted. “She’s not happy with me right now…and I wouldn’t want her to be. She’s not very good to any of you and she’s not what a mother should be.”

“Wow. Rude, Doc,” Sam said, appearing at the entrance to the library.

“She pissed me off and I’m hormonal. Don’t hold it against me too much,” you defended.

“Hormones aren’t an excuse,” he said, tiredly. “She is my mom, you know?”

“Yeah, and maybe, if I point out how she’s messed up on that since she got back, she’ll be a better grandma. Ever think of that? I’m smart, remember?” you said with a scoffing chuckle.

“Well, we can only hope she’s every bit of grandma this kid deserves.” Sam came to stand in front of you and Solo, eyes flicking to Solo’s face anxiously. “Um, so…I heard something about baby names?”

“No. Not until we get Dean back,” you answered, shaking your head. “But no John or Bobby.”

Sam laughed lightly. “That’s fine by me,” he said before clearing his throat. “Um, Solo, I’m sorry that I-”

“Don’t even, man. It’s all good,” Solo dismissed. “We’re…we’re family and we’re gonna have to learn to…learn to live with each other, right? We’re good.”

Sam nodded. “Thanks.”

“But you hurt Doc and we’re gonna have problems. Model husband, okay?” Solo said before jumping down from the table. “I’ma hit the gym.”

You watched him walk away and smiled. Sometimes, it felt like everything was going to be just fine. Now, it was just a matter of saving Dean from Michael.


	12. Furniture

**Summary** : Doc’s been back a couple days, Dean is still stuck with Michael, Sam still isn’t sleeping, but at least they’re together.

**Story Warnings:** dom/sub relationship, mentions of demon blood drinking, mentions of torture, mentions of violence to reader, mentions of noncon, pregnancy… telling some tales of King Sam

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you think you could talk to me about it? I mean…I know some of it, but…do you think you could talk to me about what happened over there?” Sam asked, quietly. You were lying in bed with him, his arms around you, comforting each other.

“I guess,” you said, shrugging. It still hurt but it wasn’t so fresh anymore. “Um, obviously…obviously, you know he treated me and Solo like sex slaves.”

“Yeah,” he said softly.

“And there were a lot of things that went with that, you know, like the–the collar he had on me…and the fact that he literally burned my clothes. He, um…he made me…he made the…” You cleared your throat and looked up at the ceiling. “He was a sadist and he loved to degrade us. He…liked dehumanizing…” 

You bit your lip and shook your head. It wasn’t that it was hurting you to tell him. It was just that you didn’t know what to say. You sat up and looked down at him. “He let me escape once. After Dean, after Solo told me that I shouldn’t, that there was no escape, he let me escape and I made it all the way to Lebanon. I hitchhiked all the way to Lebanon and then he came…he came to me and he pretended to be you. He called me ‘doc’, he was soft and he said there was a portal waiting to take me home…but when we got to where he said the tear was…he dislocated my jaw and that’s when he put that collar on me.”

You sighed heavily and shrugged, trying to literally shrug off the bad feelings. “After he got me back, I…had no fight left. Whatever he wanted me to do, I did. He wanted me to drink demon blood, I did that. He wanted me to fuck Solo, I did that. He…he wanted to put on a show for his demons, I did that. He…” You scoffed and shook your head. “There was this one time…he made me get down on my hands and knees and stay in front of his throne for hours. He put his feet up on my back and he…kicked me every time I started to move. He kept saying ‘Ottomans don’t move’ and he didn’t call me anything except ‘Footrest’ all day. Not even any of the mean nicknames he used to call me. And Dean…he brought Dean in to play with and Dean wanted to give me water, but Mast–the king wouldn’t let him give me anything. He wouldn’t even let him talk to me. He kept saying ‘You don’t talk to furniture, big brother. Furniture doesn’t need water. She’s not a person, Dean’.”

You sighed and bit your lip. “He treated me like a sex toy every day, but that was preferably to being treated like a literal object. At least there was some pleasure to getting fucked.”

“Doc,” Sam whispered, sitting up and scratching at his beard. “I’m so sorry.”

You shook your head again. “I’m fine. It’s…it’s not your fault. You’re everything good he threw away when he took over Hell.”

“What did he call you?”

You swallowed. “He started with ‘bitch’, and then Miss Piggy, Chubby Bunny…fatass…cumdump…I don’t know. Doesn’t really…doesn’t really matter. The worst thing he called me was ‘doc’…because that made it harder to separate him from my memories of you.”

He cleared his throat and looked down at his lap. “What he did to–to Solo…do you know…how that…or _why_ that…”

“It was a power play…another torture. It was…proof that he was broken.” You shrugged. “Solo said that it didn’t start…that it was just pain before Bobby died. The king would just beat the fuck out of Solo for a long few months after he let him out of Hell, but after Bobby went…he got off on…well, all of it, but…the king wanted…it was about…”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything, Doc.”

“No, it’s fine. I just…I just need…it’s the words that are the problem, not the saying it.” You ran your hand down your face and sighed. “Okay. The king wanted us to like it, even though we didn’t like it, you know? Making us beg, making us cum, making us do what he wanted…it was a control thing. It was having power over us that we _couldn’t_ control. I…I _gave_ you control, Sam. I wanted you to have it. I felt safe giving you power over me. I knew you were going to take care of me for the rest of our lives. The other Sam, he took that power over me. He demanded it…and he did the same thing to Solo.”

“And he…” Sam shook his head. “I’m sorry. I just…I have trouble imagining myself…doing that to my brother.”

“I had a lot of trouble with it at first, too. Kept…kept telling myself that you’re not gay, but…it wasn’t about that.” 

"No, it’s…I mean…” Sam’s cheeks went red as he ran his hand through his hair. “I’m not talking about gay sex, it’s that it’s Dean.”

You blinked at him a few times before cocking your head to the side. “Are you saying you’ve fucked guys before?”

“Yeah? I thought…I thought you knew,” he responded, a bit shyly. “Not a lot of guys, I mean. But…frat parties get crazy and…when I didn’t have a soul, I didn’t have any hangups and I realized that, I don’t know, it’s not bad.” He cleared his throat. “I prefer women, but…”

“Well…learn something new, I guess.”

“Are you…are you mad abo-”

“No!” you interrupted. “I don’t care who you’ve fucked in the past. You married _me_ , that’s what’s important. I just…maybe it wouldn’t have been as jarring if I’d known, but no, yes, it would have been because that’s Dean and it’s insane that the other you did that but so much of what he did was insane and I’m rambling now, aren’t I?“ You scoffed and laughed a little at yourself. "It doesn’t matter. College guys and guys when you didn’t have a soul are just like college girls and women when you didn’t have a soul and women from before we met again…they don’t matter ‘cause you married me.”

Sam smiled and leaned forward. “Can I kiss you?”

You nodded and leaned into him, letting him take a little bit of the lead, only feeling a jolt of uncertainty when he curled his fingers around the back of your neck and pulled you closer.

“Hey, Chief, we need you to look over the mission plan for this job before we head out,” a voice called through the door and Sam pulled away with an exhausted sigh.

“Yeah! Okay. Gimme a sec,” he called back. “I gotta…go…do that.”

“Yeah. I understand. Um..I will…find something to do with myself.”

“You should call Jody. She was worried about you,” Sam said as he got up and stretched a bit as he walked toward the door.

“Yeah. I’ll do that.”

“Doc.” He stopped at the door and turned back to you. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Sam,” you responded with a smile, before pulling out your phone.


	13. Just a Chance

**Summary** : Sam is willing to do whatever he needs to make his wife feel safe with him again.

 **Story Warnings:** dom/sub relationship, mentions of violence to reader, mentions of noncon, pregnancy… **18+! HERE BE SEX!! DON’T READ IF YOU’RE A YOUNG’UN!!!** unprotected sex, bondage

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It seemed too easy to you. When Sam called to let you know that Michael just _left_ Dean at the church, that your brother-in-law was coming home not much worse for the wear, you told him so.

“Y/n, I know. I know it _seems_ too easy because we never have anything easy in this life, but I’m taking the win on this one. We’re bringing Dean home and I’m…I’m gonna sleep in a bed with my wife for more than an hour at a time, okay?” he said before clearing his throat. “I mean…if you want that.”

You pushed down your concerns about the easy apprehension of Dean and nodded. “Of course, Sam. Bring him home and come share a bed with your wife,” you responded.

Which is how you ended up in bed half-naked, making out with your husband, hands traveling each other’s skin. Your whole body was thrumming with arousal and for the first time since you returned from the other world, you really wanted to have sex with him.

“Sam,” you whispered against his lips as you rolled your hips against his. “I think-”

“Yeah?” he whispered, his fingers digging into your waist. “What is it, Doc?”

You leaned back away from him and licked your lips. “I think I want to.”

His eyes went wide and hopeful. “Are-are you sure? I don’t want to-”

“No, I’m…I’m not sure. I mean…” You laughed bitterly and looked away from him. “I mean, you might grab me in the heat of things or choke me or spank me and I might have flashbacks to the other world, but…I don’t know, I just…”

“What if I couldn’t?” he offered, sitting up and taking your hand. “What if you were in complete physical control of everything and I couldn’t do anything that might trigger something bad?”

You blinked at him a few times and shook your head in confusion. Was Sam offering to be…sub?

“We’ve got restraints, Doc. I’ll let you lock up my hands. Lock up my ankles, too, if you want to. That way, you know that absolutely nothing is going to happen that you don’t want. I want my wife to feel safe with me again. Please.”

You chewed on the inside of your cheek. Sam was offering to let _you_ restrain _him_. Never. Never happen. He must have really wanted to make sure things worked out.

“Okay, Sam. That might work.”

An overly excited smile graced his thin pink lips and he leaned up to kiss you before pulling his v-neck shirt over his head and tossing it to the floor on his side of the bed. You licked your lips as he unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them and his boxers down his legs, kicking them off the foot of the bed.

His cock was half hard, huge and beautiful just like you remembered. You swallowed down an influx of saliva and nerves that hit you as you watched it twitch and leaned forward to kiss him. You could do this. You could get past this. You could fuck your husband.

Securing Sam’s wrists in the headboard restraints was new…and nerve-wracking. It was such a simple thing, one he’d done to you a thousand times, but it made your stomach flip to pull the leather strap tight around the cuff and hold him in place.

“Legs, too,” he demanded softly when you finished checking to make sure his wrists were secure. He said it in that tone. The Sir tone.

A jolt of fear went down your spine but it was quickly overshadowed by the lust that pooled between your legs. Such a reaction from two fucking words.

You ignored your reaction and shuffled down the bed, grabbing the cuffs and fitting them around his ankles. You took a deep breath and sighed it out before straddling his chest and leaning down to kiss him. He grunted happily into your mouth and bucked a little as you licked his tongue.

“Doc, take your panties off,” he ordered as soon as you pulled away to breathe. Your eyes went wide at his tone. How was he using the Sir tone while tied to the goddamn bed?

But you followed. You followed direction just like you always had. Not because he was forcing you, Sir never forced you to listen to him, unlike Master.

You shimmied out of your panties and unclipped your bra before straddling him again. “Lower, Doc. I wanna feel you.” You slid down his body, positioning your pussy to glide over his now completely hard cock. You rolled your hips and let out a whimper as he moaned. “Feels so fuckin’ good. I can’t wait for you to put me in you. I’ve been missin’ your tight fuckin’ pussy, Y/n.”

You whined at his words and rolled your hips harder. “Sam,” you whispered, bracing your hands against his chest.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his lips turning down in a sneer as he grunted and gritted his teeth. “I need to feel you.”

You didn’t even consider not doing what he wanted. You just lifted yourself up, reaching between your legs to grasp his cock and line it up with your entrance. You gasped as you slowly started to impale yourself on him, your jaw dropping as he filled you to the brim. He just felt so fucking _right_ inside of you. He was so perfect sheathed in your wet heat, stretching you to the limit, right where your husband belonged.

You dropped your head to his chest and took a minute to catch your breath. Right as it felt, it was still overwhelming. He was overwhelming. The situation and the smell of him, the feel of his cock resting against your womb…the womb with the baby that wasn’t technically his…the baby that was forced upon you…the one-

“Move. Need you to move,” Sam demanded, bucking a little and making you cry out.

Doubts fled you, thoughts gone, leaving only the desire to do what Sam needed you to do. You moved. You started with a few experimental rolls of your hips, then you braced your hands against his chest again and started to bounce a little. There was a time, when you first started with Sam, that your stamina was nonexistent and you couldn’t ride his cock for more than a few moments before the muscles in your legs started to burn.

Not now. Now you could ride for as long as Sam needed it. Usually, he only needed it for a max of thirty minutes before he took over, but there was no taking over for him if he was bound to keep him restrained.

“Faster,” he demanded and you bounced faster.

How the hell did he manage that? Tied up, in the position that would normally be the submissive position, being Sir. How? And why wasn’t it bothering you as much as you thought it should? After everything with Master, it should bother you more. You were expecting it to be a major issue, but it wasn’t. Maybe you could do this. Maybe you could go back to being his submissive. Maybe-

“Get out of your head, Doc. You got my dick in you, you shouldn’t be _thinking_.”

“Yes, Sir,” you breathed out automatically, bouncing faster and harder, clenching around him to make him groan as you whined. You leaned over and kissed him again as you bounced. No thinking. No thinking. Just Sir’s cock spearing in and out of you. No thoughts. Just pleasure. No anxiety or anger at your situation. No fear of the things to come. Just Sir and the desire to cum.

He grunted as you pressed kisses to his neck and the dip in his throat, bucking his hips up into you as he clenched his jaw tight. You were getting closer and you could feel the edge of frantic energy coming from him. This was the point in time when he’d normally wrap his arms around you and fuck into you until you were screaming, but he couldn’t do more than buck his hips and try to chase his own end.

Before the other world, and in the other world, the very idea of cumming without asking…without _permission_ , was something you’d never think of doing. It was something you actively stopped yourself from doing if at all possible. But now…riding your husband’s cock, in a weird ‘sub but not sub’ place…you reached between your thighs and started rubbing at your clit. Sam’s eyes dropped to your hand movements and you could _see_ it in his eyes that he wanted to reprimand you. ‘No touching my pussy without permission’ he wanted to say. ‘What do you think you’re doing? You don’t get to cum unless I say so.’

But he couldn’t stop you. He couldn’t say that. The weird ‘sub but not sub’ place where you were put him in a weird ‘Sir but not Sir’ place and he was smart enough to see it. This wasn’t brattiness, because you were never a brat. This was you being a woman who couldn’t give him all of the control. Not yet. Maybe not ever. Definitely not in that moment.

Your orgasm was a hard crack, making the fingers of your free hand dig into his chest as your toes curled and you let out a broken moan. Your breathing stopped momentarily as you were too overwhelmed to remember how to work your lungs. You gasped in a few panting breaths and pulled your hand away, bouncing to get him to his own orgasm. He deserved it. He deserved to cum in his wife again. After everything he went through: losing you, dying in Apocalypse World, losing Dean…he deserved it.

He grunted your name and took in a hissing breath as his eyes rolled back and his own toes curled. His cock pulsed inside of you as he filled you for the first time in months. “Fuck.”

You let out a giggling laugh as you climbed off of him and moved to untie his wrists. “That sounds about right, yeah.” As soon as he had a hand free, he softly grabbed the back of your head and pulled you into a kiss. Your tongues played across each other for a few minutes before he pulled back and rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed as he sighed contentedly.

“I love you so much, Y/n,” he whispered.

“I love you, too, Sam.”

“This was okay for you, though, right? Not–I mean, it wasn’t, like, a bad thing for you. I know you got off, but…”

“Don’t worry. There were a couple of moments that were a little…difficult, but it was good. Everything was good. I mean…” You pulled back and shrugged before shaking your head. “We’re in a weird spot with each other right now. Because you…there’s only so far you can push down your dominant personality…and even if I weren’t naturally submissive, I’m definitely trained to be. The woman you married is-”

“I don’t need you to be-”

“Sam, you were Dom-ing me while wearing my wrist cuffs. You need to have some control here…and I’m okay with giving up _some_ control. Some. And ya know…maybe there will be a day when I can give up all of me again, but…I need just a small…I need to maintain some of the control for now. Okay?” you whispered as you went to work on the other cuff.

“Okay. Of course, Doc. I wasn’t…I wasn’t even trying to-”

“But you did,” you interrupted. “And that’s okay. I could handle that. I could handle a bit of that. The Dom tone and the telling me what to do even though there was no way in the world you could make me do it and the way you pulled me out of my head…it’s good. I can do that. I can deal with that, but…I guess ‘baby steps’ is what I’m saying.”

Sam smiled as he reached down to uncuff his ankles. “I can do that. Thank you for giving me the chance on this.”

“Sam, I love you. Just needed to get healthy enough for it, ya know?” you said, leaning forward to run your fingers through his hair. “I think everything’s gonna be okay now. Really do.”

Sam leaned into your touch and nodded. “Yeah. Everything’s gonna be okay.”


End file.
